On 6-22 I received a call about two baby Eastern kingbirds that the lady’d been feeding since 6-18—that’s 5 days. She worked in a vet clinic and a client had brought them in. Instead of abiding by state and federal law and contacting a licensed wildlife rehabilitator to take the birds, she decided to play Lone Ranger and rehab them herself…yeah, we all know how that’s gonna play out, right?

On the phone she said she’d been taking “very good” care of them and “trying” to feed them every half hour, but one seemed dehydrated.  Interesting that she suddenly was able to locate me when things started going south, no?

Kingbirds are on the decline but are not listed as a species of concern…yet. I agreed to meet the lady and take the birds, figuring that her cobbled-together diet would have them nutritionally down, at the very least. I was totally unprepared for what I saw when I got the birds.

One was dying and didn’t even survive the 20 minute drive to my home. The other had the worst case of diarrhea I’ve seen in a while in birds. Both the DOA and the survivor looked as if they’d bathed in their food.

I bit my tongue really hard and told the lady that bird feathers needed to be pristine in order not to compromise their flight ability. She replied that she didn’t know how to clean them and then asked me why there was no information on how to feed them online. I again bit my tongue and explained that since songbird rehab is state and federally regulated, we don’t post the approved diets for just anybody to access; that would be encouraging lawbreaking.

So…I get the corpse and the diarrhea baby home and immediately begin getting together the stuff I need to bathe the poor bird. Look at the food and poop on his wings and legs…look at the unhealthy color and consistency of that poop.

As I begin bathing the poor, bedraggled thing, I notice that THE LEFT WING IS BROKEN. How in hell do you have a bird for FIVE days and not notice a broken wing??? He also was unhealthily thin and frantically demanding food.

Okay, let’s review…she kept the birds in violation of state and federal law; called me only when she’d killed one bird and possibly doomed the other to a life in captivity; managed to ignore the rampant diarrhea; totally ignored basic hygiene; and nearly starved the surviving bird to death...

Within a few hours of proper food, the diarrhea had resolved. Three baths later, most of the gunk was off the feathers, although I went very easy on the broken wing, despite the fact that I thought I could feel a callus already, meaning the bone had healed—in an improper position that could hinder the bird’s ability to fly.

I took the clean and normally pooping, albeit thin, bird to Smalley’s Animal Hospital this morning, where vet Shelley Baumann confirmed that the broken wing had indeed already developed a callus and was stable in its droopy position. Shelley is hopeful that since the bird is young and has never experienced flight, when he does attempt to fly he’ll compensate for the droopy wing naturally, having never known anything else. If not, we both agreed that having never experienced freedom, he should adapt well to life in captivity as an educational bird, assuming there are no later complications from the improper diet or the improperly healed bone.

So…one bird died for no reason; another may never experience the joy of free flight—and all because some fool wanted to play rehabber, without the proper permits, training or experience. What makes it worse is that, as I mentioned earlier, kingbirds are on the decline. Even two birds out of the breeding population could make a difference…

Do you now understand why I get so worked up about having the proper permits to work with wildlife?

Let’s start this update by recognizing a woman who went beyond the call of duty to reunite an unnested mocker with its mother. I don’t remember Kimberly’s last name, but she called me late one afternoon and explained that her children had found a mocker nestling on the ground in their back yard. She didn’t have access to a vehicle until the next day, as her husband was out of town with their truck, and she wanted to know what to do to keep the baby going until she could get it to me. I asked if she knew where the nest was, and as luck would have it, she did. I explained that she could try to re-nest the bird first, and in case that failed, I walked her through what she needed to do until she could get the bird to me. The next morning, I didn’t hear from Kimberly, so I figured she’d either re-nested the baby or it hadn’t made it through the night. Late that afternoon, she called, laughing, to tell me that her husband had backed their truck up to the tree and the children steadied an extension ladder in the truck bed while she climbed up to put the baby mocker back with its siblings in the nest. One of the other sibs jumped out in the process, and she made sure it was re-nested, as well.  Kudos to Kimberly for a job well done—it’s always better if the parents can raise their own young, if at all possible, and she went the extra mile to make sure this happened!

Now for my hall of shame entry: the same week that Kimberly went over and above to reunite an avian family, another lady who didn’t even bother to give her name called. She had taken a baby bird from her cat the night before. She didn’t want it in her house, so she put it in the car for the night. At noon, when she called me, on her way to work, the bird had not been fed and she’d left it at home. She wouldn’t get off until 9 pm. I bit my tongue really hard—can’t be rude to the public, no matter how desperately you want to tell them how many flavors of idiot they are—and explained to her that the bird would be dead or dying by the time she got off work that night. Her response?  “Oh. Well, I just couldn’t let the cat kill it.” Really? So “saving” it from a quick death at the cat’s paws only to allow it to starve to death slowly was okay in her twisted logic??  Someone explain that one to me, please…

Just days after having to euthanize the wood duckling with the neck deformity, another even younger wood duckling came in. Nature abhors a vacuum!

This little one is growing by leaps and bounds; I swear I think he doubled in size over the weekend.

The “trash” you see floating in the water is actually tiny worms that he likes to nibble on while swimming. Okay, nibble is too dainty a word. He inhales the things like a little downy vacuum cleaner!

The flight pen blue jays from the last update have been released but are still coming down for supplemental feedings. Blue jays are such shameless little beggars. Today one came screaming down for his handout…with a very fat, juicy grasshopper in his beak!

And this little blue jay came in as the youngest I’ve seen in a while. I’d almost forgotten how awkward they look when their feathers are coming in, bless his sweet little heart! He’s now in the flight pen, as well.

This nestling red bellied woodpecker looks like she’s bruised and battered, but what you’re seeing is her bare skin and the muscles that allow her to use that tail for balance when clinging to a tree. The tree her nest was in was downed in a storm and her sibling was killed.

This is her five days after intake…

…and here she is just yesterday, in the flight pen.  Woodpeckers as a rule are just cantankerous, ornery birds, but I always take into account that I’d probably be the same way if my first clear thought was the realization that I’d spend the rest of my life banging my head against a tree!

These little rabbits came in covered with fire ant bites. They were quite literally scabs covered with fur. I’ve never seen so many ant bites on live animals before, and I didn’t expect them to make it, but I started antibiotics anyway. Rabbits are such stressy critters—only 10% survive their first year in the wild, and that’s actually considered an acceptable release rate for rehabbers, as well. Some rehabbers won’t even take in rabbits because of their propensity to stress out and die. These little ones were lucky; the antibiotics worked and they were released early this morning.

This juvenile red shouldered hawk came in last week. He was unnested by a severe storm in a neighboring county.

While he’s small even for a red shoulder, in his little mind he thinks he’s a ferocious giant, as evidenced by this pose. I will say that he knows how to draw blood with that beak when his feet and body are restrained for feeding. I’m not having to force feed, just to hand feed. This consists of quickly cramming the food in his beak while he’s very loudly cussing me out. To give you an idea of what that’s like, turn your radio or television up to speaker-rattling volume and stand right in front of it. Something operatic, very soprano, would be best. Now take the smelliest, slimiest food you can find and toss it on yourself while simultaneously pricking your fingers repeatedly with a sharp knife. There you have it: that’s a quieter and cleaner version of feeding a resistant red shoulder!

And finally, this nestling mocker came in this morning. He was still a bit confused by the change of venue when I snapped this photo, but by his bedtime he was back in rare form…typical mocker; very little fazes them for long!

Don’t forget that today was the first day of summer and the longest day of the year. Beginning tomorrow, the days will start to get shorter by just minutes a day until fall arrives with its blessedly cooler temperatures.

Okay, rant first, people—if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a gazillion (only slight exaggeration) times: orphaned/injured/ill wildlife should be gotten to a wildlife rehabber ASAP. Everyone can look up the number of whatever agency in their state handles hunting & fishing; the same people usually regulate wildlife rehab, too, and can provide names and numbers for the rehabber nearest you.

What brought on the rant this time?  Person calls me on May 31 with one surviving hatchling robin, app. 8 days old by my estimation. When the person found the nest on the ground there were three healthy babies in it. This person first tried to place the blame for not calling me earlier on another rehabber, then claimed they could never reach me at the very same number they were now calling. Folks, my phone is on and on or near my person 24/7/365, so I know that’s not true. Then the caller began sobbing to me about how they had tried so hard and now this last baby wasn’t looking healthy…as usual, when some untrained person screws things up, then they can suddenly find my number and cry for me to clean up their mess. I asked what the birds had been fed…baby food using their finger. People, even your little finger is too blasted big to be shoving down a hatchling bird’s throat! And without sterilizing the finger before each feeding, Lord knows what kinds of foreign bacteria were introduced to the bird’s gut…I took some sadistic pleasure in the fact that the caller had sweltered for 3 days in a closed-off bedroom with the heater on as they fed the birds every half hour round the clock, day and night. Stupidity can be painful!

Anyway, I now have the robin, and so far he seems to be doing well, thank goodness. I’m worried about possible splay leg, as he was without proper support for three days, but we’ll have to wait and see what develops as he grows.

Point of rant? Repeat after me—you should know this mantra by heart now: “Rehabbers are licensed for a REASON.”  We have the training and hands-on experience to handle these situations. Would you practice medicine without a license? Would you perform brain surgery or spay a cat without a license? Then what in blue blazes makes you think it’s okay to attempt wildlife rehab without a license???

*Sigh* I realize that I’m preaching to the choir here…but at least I feel better after ranting!

Now for the raves: Is this not the cutest little bird you’ve ever seen? This pre-fledgling chickadee (Carolina; the black capped are generally in Parts North) came in on Memorial Day and, to use an old expression, sulled up for an entire day before deciding to gape for food.

And in the “so ugly I’m cute” category, we have this downy turkey vulture.  While I know that most people aren’t terribly fond of adult vultures, let me remind you again that they serve an important purpose; without vultures, we’d be knee-deep in rotting road-kill and other carcasses.

This little guy hissed and growled and lunged for food the entire time I had him; he’s now at Bubba & Friends Raptor Rehab (www.bubba-and-friends.org).

Another “cute through the stratosphere” baby is this downy screech owl. He was with me for only a few days before going to Bubba & Friends, as Steve Hicks had another downy screech coming in and we decided the two needed to be together. Steve says they’re so close in age they might as well have come from the same nest, so that worked out well for everyone concerned!

The red shouldered hawk who came in as a downy baby blossomed into a gorgeous teenager before going to Bubba & Friends for flight conditioning and hunting lessons. (Scroll down to previous two updates to see her progress.) Look at this lady! Steve said today that she has virtually no down left but retains her diva attitude: Her food must be in the exact same place every day or she won’t eat it!

The possums have all been released now and gone their oblivious little ways.

As promised in the last update, here’s a photo of some of the released Carolina wrens, sunning themselves in the brush.  They’re slower to wean off the post-release supplemental feedings, but we’re getting there.

We also had another two Carolina wrens come in; they were little “naked babies” at intake, and very cold and lethargic. I was more worried about their survival than getting photos at that point. The next couple of days were touch-and-go, but they’re doing great now.

The flight pen mocker was released shortly after the last update and was promptly replaced by two new mockers and the finch in the flight pen! They were released today to make room for the two blue jays who came in a couple of days apart.

This hatchling Carolina wren came in just tonight; his nest was found in the bumper of a truck after it had been moved from its original location all day, so his one sibling had died from a combination of dehydration and starvation. Carolina wrens must be fed every 15-20 minutes at this tender age. To his credit, the man who found them called his wife immediately; she had brought animals to me in previous years and called me about this wee one. He’s weak but gaping and is still getting alternating fluids and food as I type; normally baby songbirds aren’t fed at night, but this little fellow missed so many feedings today that I’ll be feeding him most of the night to try and ensure his survival.

And finally, a huge welcome to newly-minted vet Richie Hatcher, who’s joined the talented and amazing vets at Smalley’s Animal Hospital. I baptized him by fire today with two intakes who required euthanasia; hopefully the next time I see him I’ll have something we can save!

Yep, baby season is in full swing, and I’ve got the birds to prove it. So far this month, 18 new intakes have come through the doors, and I’m up to 82 phone calls that didn’t result in the intake of an animal. Hmmm...where to start this update??

The Carolina wren and gnatcatchers were released; the wren didn’t look back; the gnatcatchers continued to come screaming down like little feathered Cruise missiles for about a week, coming from farther away and taking less each time. I’m not seeing them anymore, and I have to admit I miss their cheerful chatter.

I had 6 more Carolina wrens come in—this is apparently the year of small birds! They were nearly ready for the flight pen, so after spending a couple of days inside, into the flight they went, and they’ve also been released.  I’m still supplemental-feeding four of them, but they’re a little nervous about the camera now. I’ll try for some photos of them for the next update.

We also have a mocker, who’s in the flight pen now and will be ready for release within the next few days.

Two grackles came in; one didn’t make it. He ate well, but stayed rail-thin and just didn’t seem to grow like the other one (they weren’t sibs). We call this “failure to thrive.” There’s not a real medical reason; it could be that he was the runt of the clutch and was suffering from nutritional deficiencies because his sibs got most of the food—who knows? The other grackle, however, is in fine form and will be headed for the flight pen this week.

This gorgeous little fledgling red bellied woodpecker came in with a broken wing and seemed to be doing fine after we wrapped it; three days after he came in, I found him struggling to perch on his log. His condition worsened over the next several hours, leading to my decision to euthanize him.  He was obviously suffering and again, there was no apparent medical reason; my vets and I initially had high hopes that he would be releasable, in fact.

This little white-breasted nuthatch came in starving and severely dehydrated, and I didn’t expect him to make it through the night. He was so dehydrated that when I finally got enough fluids and food in him for him to poop, it was the consistency of putty. When he made it through the night, I was cautiously optimistic, but he didn’t last through the next day.

On the other hand, this little finch came in with the same problem—starvation and dehydration—and is doing great at the moment. Keep your fingers crossed. Finches are so cute with all their “cactus” fuzz; he’s lost most of his, as he was only days away from fledging when he fell from the nest and his finder couldn’t locate the nest to put him back.

Three of the possums should be released this week. Here you see a pile o’possums; it’s a bit hard to tell where one begins and another ends in the thick of the pile!

And look at the progress of this downy red shoulder!  Scroll back down to the May 5 update and look at her when she came in. Now look at these photos. The one at right was taken on May 6, the one below on May 14. Talk about growing like a weed!

It’s been a weird year so far; there are several species I tend to see in larger quantities that I haven’t seen any of at all. Notice I’m not being specific, as Murphy’s Law will then kick in and I’ll be inundated with those species!

I’ll leave you with this great quote from nature writer Hal Borland that I rediscovered a while back in some of my old notes:  You can't be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.

Why do people lose all common sense upon the discovery of a wild baby? I can almost see the warped logic in attempting to feed baby mammals cow’s milk, but a BIRD??? Yep, the other night I had a call from someone who’d found a nest of just-hatched babies that had fallen from a tree, and all afternoon the babies were fed…HUMAN baby formula. Yeah, you know—the stuff you give human babies: Enfamil or whatever it’s called.  Someone PLEASE show me the bird with boobs that led to the assumption that baby birds need milk!

For the record, people—the early bird gets the WORM, okay??  Birds do NOT have mammary glands; they do NOT run to the store for a quart of milk or baby formula for their nestlings.  Spread the gospel, please!  Avian digestive systems aren’t equipped to handle milk; it will kill them. And that’s just what happened. The person who found these baby birds quite literally killed them with (misguided) kindness.  They didn’t even make it to me before they died.

Now that this update’s rant is out of the way, let’s talk babies!

The squirrels have been released; I did manage a couple of pix of them prior to release, despite their increasing camera shyness.

LWR also received a nest of four Carolina wrens that were found in a tractor engine.  Two were euthanized: One was a simple case of failure to thrive; the other had a deformed beak that made it impossible for him to preen properly as his feathers came in. One dropped from the flight pen perch during their nightly jostling for position and died, and one was released.

I also received three blue-gray gnatcatchers, tiny, chatty little birds who brought a smile to my face the entire time they were in the flight pen. They’ve been released, as well. Here’s a close-up of one of the little darlings; below is a shot of them and the wrens in the flight pen.

We’re up to 11 possums now, although you can only see six in this shot. The seven from the last update are doing quite well—a proper diet will work wonders! The whole lot are just hissy little rascals who would prefer it if I could put the food in their cage without ever coming near them!

I also had another nest of hatchling Carolina wrens come in, all DOA. When an animal dies within 24 hours of intake, it’s considered DOA, and these poor babies didn’t make it through the night. In this case the finder did everything right. Their nest was found on the ground, covered with ants. The only delay in contacting me was the time it took to remove the ants, so I had these babies less than two hours after they were found. They were ice cold when I got them, however, and the finder said that even though she didn’t run her car air conditioner and kept her hand over the babies to provide warmth on the way to meet me, she could never get them warmed up. There didn’t appear to be any ant bites, but the poor little ones had been too long without food and warmth by the time they were found.  Even warming them up and feeding them couldn’t pull them back from the brink of death.

LWR also recently received a downy hawk—we think red shoulder—from DNR. The bird had been through several hands before DNR took possession, and she had the beginnings of pneumonia when I got her. She was beak-breathing and clicking, and I could hear the crackling in her lungs. After consulting with vet Shelley Baumann of Smalley’s Animal Hospital to confirm that the mild antibiotic I keep on hand would be strong enough for this young lady, I started her on antibiotics, and the very next morning there was marked improvement—no beak-breathing or clicking! We don’t always get such quick results, but this little girl—we’re pretty sure she’s female, given her rather hefty weight for her young age—was lucky in that we caught her pneumonia early and it responded well to treatment.

I also had an unidentified egg come in; it was found on the ground after a tree was cut down, but no nest was located.  I suspect it’s sterile and was left in the nest after the babies who had hatched fledged, but since candling it has been inconclusive so far, I’m incubating it for a few more days to see what may or may not happen.  There are several species whose eggs resemble this one, so it would be neat if it hatched, if for no other reason than to see which species it is!

For April, LWR had 36 intakes, so baby season is officially in full gear now!

Go ahead, groan, but how could I resist that name for a ruby-throated hummingbird?!  Since his name is bigger than he is, we’ll just call him Dinky for short. Dinky came in with a probable broken right wing; x-rays were inconclusive since we had to set the exposure very low so as not to administer a lethal dose of radiation to the “leetle feller.”

He’d been taken away from a cat (cue standard “indoor-only cats can’t kill birds” rant here…you’ve read it enough in previous posts) several days before I received him; the finder couldn’t get anyone to answer her calls until she got hold of Steve Hicks of Bubba and Friends raptor rehab (www.bubba-and-friends.org). Steve rehabs raptors exclusively, but since he was headed my way the next day to pick up the osprey from the last update, he agreed to take the bird and bring him to me when he came.

Since hummers need to eat every 20 minutes because of their high metabolisms, I was delighted that  Dinky was self-feeding. He has been happily slurping a special nectar designed for use in rehab settings, which contains all the nutrients hummers need that normal hummer nectar doesn’t contain.  In other words, don’t try this at home, boys and girls! In addition to the fact that it’s illegal without the proper state and federal permits, there’s also the fact that hummers are high-maintenance birds and difficult to rehab.

He may be unreleasable because of that right wing; we’ll have to wait and see. He can flutter it quite well but can get no lift. In the meantime, Dinky is a nosy rascal who often appears to be challenging me: he cocks his little head and flashes his red throat while jealously guarding his “stash” of rehab nectar. Yeah, like I want to drink it; it doesn’t smell all that appetizing to this non-hummer! 

Birds in general are amazing, but hummers are especially so. I mean, stop and realize that something so tiny—weighing only a tenth of an ounce, two tenths at the outside—that must eat every 20 minutes to survive, crosses the Gulf of Mexico or hugs the Texas coast each fall, a 500-mile trip that takes nearly 24 hours to complete, to reach their wintering territory. Most hummers don’t survive their first year; those that do have an average life expectancy of 3-4 years. They’re pretty awesome little birds!

LWR also had another osprey come in this past week, this one with matching wing injuries. He had infected, draining spots on both wings below the wrists. We have no clue how he was originally injured; our initial guess was gunshot, but when vet Shelley Baumann of Smalley’s Animal Hospital x-rayed him, there was no lead and there were no broken bones, so it’s anybody’s guess. He’s on antibiotics and will be headed to Bubba and Friends soon.

And just today, we received seven young possums, about three months old. (Trust me, there are 7 in there; they’re in a big pile!) Their mother had been hit by a car, but the finders kept the babies for a week, feeding them only once a day, before getting them to LWR this afternoon. They’re severely malnourished as a result, and the jury’s still out on their fate. I’m hoping they respond well to regular feedings of a proper diet, but we’ll have to see.

The squirrels are moving into release phase and have gotten very camera-shy, so no photos of them this week. I’ll see if I can sneak a few for the next update, but they’re pretty sharp bushy-tails and scurry for cover when they see the camera!

While intakes remain slow so far this season, there’s a steady enough trickle to keep me busy. According to reports from rehabbers around the state, slow but steady seems to be everybody’s current situation…which none of us are complaining about after our “banner year” in 2010!

Let’s see…this update is a mixed bag…

The barnie was released and from all reports is quite happy to be back home. It’s always nice when we get to release adult wildlife back into the wild; too often the adults come in too badly injured to be saved.

This was, in fact, the case with this gorgeous male red tailed hawk, who had numerous issues. He’d been hit by a car and had head and beak damage, in addition to a broken wing. This paled, however, beside his major problem: he’d apparently eaten a rodent that had eaten rat poison. This probably explained why he’d been hit by the car; he was already dying slowly and painfully as the rodenticide caused him to begin bleeding to death internally. As you can see from the bloody spots around him, he’d begun pooping blood by the time I got him to the vet. The small wound on his wing also refused to clot—a sure sign that rat poison was the culprit.

Soapbox time here, people: I realize no one wants rats and mice in their homes, garages, barns—whatever. But there are better ways to deal with them than rat poison, okay? Use rat/mouse traps— humane or snap traps, not glue traps; those are lethal to wildlife, too. Put up an owl nesting box and see if you can encourage a screech owl to move in. According to some people, Bounce dryer sheets will deter rodents. I haven’t tried this so I can’t vouch for it. There are companies that sell a repellant that smells like fox/bobcat urine; this is also one I haven’t tried, but those who have say that it also deters squirrels if you have problems with them. Encourage rat snakes, black snakes and king snakes to take up residence around your property. They’re nonpoisonous and non-aggressive toward anything other than their prey, which includes rattlesnakes, so you get double-duty protection from them. Bottom line: when you use rat poison it moves up the food chain into the predators that eat rodents. The predators that most concern us would be hawks and owls. They die, slowly and painfully, because they ate the very pests you didn’t want around to begin with, and you lose their help in controlling the rodent population. Rat poison is a self-defeating method, in my opinion, for that very reason.  Don’t use the nasty stuff!

Okay, off the soapbox…for a while, at least.

In other raptor news, LWR received its first osprey. Ospreys primarily eat fish, so they’re found near rivers, lakes, etc. This guy was found near a lake and had a broken wing. He was lucky; his break was mid-bone and not too badly displaced, so he has a chance at release. He’ll be going to Bubba & Friends (www.bubba-and-friends.org) soon, where as his wing heals, he’ll get daily PT and flight conditioning.

We had another barred owl come right after the last update. He was found by the side of the road by a group of birders, who brought him to me. His left eye was damaged pretty badly but he could see out of the right eye, so we were hopeful all would be well. About two weeks later the damaged eye began to atrophy, which the vets at Smalley’s Animal Hospital had said was a possibility. He had to be euthanized.

The youngest squirrel from the last update also had to be euthanized. Once his eyes opened, he turned out to be blind, the poor baby.

And this female pine warbler was downed in a hailstorm. Nothing was broken; she just refused to eat or fly. She was force-fed and we began antibiotics, as this seemed to be the next logical alternative. The pretty little thing actually seemed to perk up and began flitting about her pen and pecking at things—including me—after the meds kicked in, so I was confident she’d be a success story. The next morning she was dead.

This is one of the frustrating aspects of wildlife rehab, as I’ve mentioned before. The really ill or seriously injured animals, you expect not to make it. It always comes as a shock when the ones who respond to treatment and seem to be on the mend keel over overnight.

The squirrel whose progress you’ve been following for a couple of months now is doing quite well and attempting to break records for most weight on a squirrel his size. Such a greedy little rascal!

He has a companion, too, another little male. They’re about the same age, so they’re housed together. This little guy was one of two found when someone cut down a tree. Both were taken home, where the people attempted to raise them as pets, feeding them all the wrong foods in the process—for the record, squirrels DO NOT eat bread; cow’s milk will kill them; and pecans are the nutritional equivalent of a candy bar and are used only as treats here at LWR.  His brother died of starvation/malnutrition before the people decided to get this little one the professional help he needed. When he came in, he was rail-thin. It took a good week before he began noticeably gaining weight, but he’s making up for lost time now. I can no longer feel every rib on his little body, and he and his “brother” are active, playful little rascals who’re in the process of being weaned now.

And finally, only two of the white bluebird eggs I mentioned in the last update hatched. I do, however, finally have “blues” nesting in a box they’ve ignored for the three years it’s been up; there are four pretty little eggs in it. And a weekend neighbor has a nesting mama, as well, who also has four eggs. I’m checking all nests daily, as there are so many predators out there and so few bluebirds…and in my admittedly biased opinion, there’s very little prettier than a bluebird!

And just as with humans, wildlife has turned its thoughts to love—well, not in the human sense of the word, but mating season is in full force for most critters now. Squirrels are nearing the end of their first breeding cycle; owls are trying to get their babies out of the nest; songbirds are building nests…Speaking of which, here’s an interesting bit of trivia before I get into this week’s LWR update.  Did you know that Eastern bluebirds (EABB) can sometimes lay white eggs? The normal color for EABB eggs is a lovely light blue, but 5% of female EABBs lay only white eggs. The babies are normally pigmented, and the female will lay only white eggs for the rest of her life.  Neat, huh?  And why is this interesting to me? “My” bluebirds this year have five pretty little white eggs in their nest—first time this has ever occurred in the population that’s been using my nest boxes!

Okay, so maybe you’re not as impressed with that little factoid as I am.  Oh well…on to the update!

The squirrel’s eyes opened this week, although you can’t tell it in this photo. He’s still at the “eat and pass out” phase of his life; this week he should start becoming a little more active between feedings.

He also has a neighbor: LWR received another gray squirrel last week, a couple of weeks younger and a whole lot skinnier than Mr. Buddha Belly. This little guy was probably attacked in the nest by a crow—see the abrasion on his flank?  He has a somewhat smaller matching wound on the other flank; his left ear has a small scab; and his left eye was massively swollen when he came in. He also had a nasty case of pneumonia, complete with horrible congestion and rattling breathing.  He’s still on antibiotics and is still a bit lethargic compared to his older neighbor, but he’s much better than when he came in.

We also had a juvenile rabbit come in, attacked by cat. He was lucky that he had only minor wounds, but he still needed a couple of days of antibiotics, as cat saliva is toxic to rabbits. He was quite a happy camper when he was released—the arrow in the photo below shows you the hiding place in the brush that he quickly scampered to in his dash to freedom.

This red shoulder hawk wasn’t as lucky. He was found in the road, but a vet exam revealed only 3-4 tail feathers missing. He was eating well—self-feeding, too—but when I went in the fourth morning to check on him, he’d died during the night. Sometimes the stress of the original injury, combined with the stress of captivity, can cause latent and otherwise benign conditions to flare up, often with fatal results; also, we don’t know what happened for him to’ve been in the road in the first place, so...we just don’t know. Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends (www.bubba-and-friends.org) and I had actually been discussing releasing this guy within a day or two, as he was doing so well…

Today an adult mocker came in, rescued from a hawk. As cruel as it may sound to you, I don’t actually advocate taking prey away from raptors, normally. It’s not pleasant to see them take out songbirds, but they have to eat, too. In this case, however, in addition to a leg that appears broken in the joint, the mocker seems to have some neurological issues that might indicate pesticide poisoning, so the person who rescued him may also have saved the hawk’s life: If he’d eaten a poisoned bird, he would have died, as well.

Let me hop on my soapbox here once more and remind you that pesticides and insecticides are deadly to songbirds, too. They get the poison on their legs and feet, or on their feathers, or they ingest a poisoned insect or plant, and then they take the poison back to their nests on their legs/feathers or feed their babies poisoned insects or berries, killing their babies…or they become too weak and disoriented to fly and are easy prey for raptors, who then die from eating poisoned songbirds. Is it really worth the risk of all that death just so you can take out a few dandelions in your yard? A weed is just a misplaced flower, according to some pundits. While that’s a lovely, poetic notion, here’s something a little more concrete to ponder: those so-called weeds you poison are a source of food for all sorts of wildlife—and some beneficial insects like dragonflies.  Bottom line—I’d rather have a ragged yard and living wildlife than some fake-looking perfect lawn that comes with much too high a cost to the wildlife associated with it. And if that’s not incentive enough for you to lay off the pesticides and insecticides, stop and think about this for a second: you, your children and your family pets are walking on, lying in and otherwise exposed to the very plants you’ve doused with poison!

Ending on an up note, the barn owl from the last update continues to make progress.  His vet exam showed nothing broken and just a slight bruise to that left eye, which thrilled us all. He’s such a gorgeous man! It took him the better part of a week to recover from the vertigo accompanying his concussion, and as of this past week, he’s started fighting me when I feed him—and broke free the other night, leading me on a merry chase through my main rehab area. (Thanks to Steve Hicks for alerting me to the fact that when adult barnies are in rehab, they often refuse to self-feed.) He’s starting to hiss loudly and attempt to scream, but—if you’ll pardon the bad grammar (it sounds funnier this way, for some reason)—his screamer still don’t work right! He IS improving in this area, as well, though, and his flight is looking better and better, so we’re hoping he’ll be release-ready soon.

Spend some time outside tomorrow to celebrate the official beginning of Spring. Go—get out and just sit and do nothing but listen to the birds singing!

And if any of you added “oh my!” to that, you’ve been watching a little too much “Wizard of Oz” lately!

It’s been a slow but steady couple of weeks, with a red-tailed hawk, a barred owl, a gray squirrel and, just this morning, a barn owl coming in.

The red tail came in with a nasty broken wing—the entire elbow was exposed, and one of the bones was snapped right at the joint, rendering it unfixable, so we had no choice but to euthanize.  Based on the nature of the injury, raptor rehabber Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends theorizes that the bird may have been attacked by a great horned owl, as the x-rays showed no signs of lead that would indicate a gunshot.  This red tail was absolutely terrified when he came in, which is unusual for red tails and would also fit the GHO attack theory, according to Steve.

A few days later, I received a call about a hit-by-car (HBC) barred owl. This poor bird was concussed out of his gourd, his left eye was pretty cloudy, and he seemed to have some sort of neurological issue, as he couldn’t keep his head level and kept jerking it slowly from side to side.  After a vet exam, I took him home and debated for a few days whether we needed to euthanize, as he had to be force-fed, couldn’t keep his left eye open, and the neurological issue didn’t seem to be clearing up.

The day I’d planned to take him back in for euthanasia, his head stopped jerking and he started eagerly snatching mice from the forceps, so he got a reprieve. The left eye is now open most of the time but is still fairly cloudy. Sometimes it can take up to a month for head injuries to fully heal, though, so he’s got a few more weeks yet and will soon need to be transferred to Bubba & Friends for flight conditioning.

The gray squirrel came in late in February, orphaned when the tree his nest was in was cut down. People, as I’ve mentioned before, there’s no good time in Georgia to fell a tree: in the early fall, squirrels have babies in the nest; in the winter, owls have babies in the nest; in the spring and summer, hawks, songbirds and squirrels have babies in the nest. If the tree absolutely MUST come down, PLEASE check for nests and make arrangements to relocate the babies.  And remember, it’s against federal law to disturb a raptor or songbird nest with eggs or babies in it.

End of lecture…for now…this little guy is growing by leaps and bounds, as you can see from these photos taken over the week and a half he’s been in rehab.

The barn owl came in near noon today, after a concerned couple saw him by the road in front of their house. They were aware enough of their natural surroundings to know he was “their” bird—one they watched in their yard frequently—and they called DNR to locate a rehabber, after removing him from danger and placing him in a cardboard box for transport. My thanks to them for their quick and level-headed action!

Upon intake, the barnie was concussed and lethargic, and it looked as if his left eye was pretty well trashed (see above photo), but I kept smelling pine tar, so I decided to see if I could clean his eye up a bit and determine if maybe it just had pine tar on it. To my delight, that was the problem with his eye; after cleaning, it looked perfectly normal.

However…he favors his right leg. It doesn’t feel broken, but there may be a hip/pelvic injury that even an x-ray won’t show. I’ve consulted with Steve Hicks, who says hip/pelvic injuries are not common in barnies, so our fingers are crossed that he’s just bruised and sore. Since he came in too late to get him to Smalley’s today for x-rays, we’ll have to wait until Monday to find out anything more definite on him. In the meantime, it’s dark, quiet and rest for him while his head stops hurting and the room stops spinning, poor baby.

Keep your fingers crossed that a massive headache and some bruising are the only issues he has, and of course, I’ll keep you posted on his status in the next update.

In closing, Laurens Wildlife Rescue has again this year been invited to join the Green Choice Campaign, but this requires YOUR participation: go to

http://www.greatnonprofits.org/reviews/write/laurens-wildlife-rescue-inc/campaign:28

and post a review of LWR. You don’t have to’ve brought us animals in the past; one of the options under “Your role” is “general member of the public”.  If LWR has at least 10 positive reviews (4 or 5 stars) by March 31, 2011, we will receive exposure to potential donors on the Great Nonprofits Top-Rated Green Nonprofits List. Last year we had two very positive reviews—I know more than two people read this blog, so click on that link and let’s get 10 positive reviews up there!  (Be sure to click on “Green Choice” in the campaign drop-down menu.)

For those of you who perhaps don’t remember, the GBBC is a great way to allow scientists to track changing bird populations across North America, as ordinary citizens report the number of avian species they see at their feeders, in the woods, at the park—wherever they happen to be. You can count birds for as little as 15 minutes a day; you can participate every day from Feb. 18-21 or just one or two days, depending on your schedule; and you can list only the species you see or hear that you recognize, so you don’t even need a bird ID guide…although it’s my considered opinion that everybody should have one good bird guide handy at all times—I have several and even keep one in my car! How much easier could it be, unless you had someone counting the birds for you? (In which case, you’re probably so lazy you’d like to hire someone to eat and breathe for you, too…) Go to www.birdcount.org or click on the GBBC button below for more info.

Only one intake since the Feb. 3 update, a gorgeous mature male red-tailed hawk. Unfortunately, this laid-back bird had several major health issues that necessitated his euthanasia…He came in with a nasty open wing fracture, which is pretty much a death sentence for any bird. Steve Hicks of Bubba and Friends (www.bubba-and-friends.org) and I discussed the hawk’s potential fate prior to my taking him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital for x-rays and had decided if the x-rays didn’t show too much displacement or a totally shattered wing, we’d give him a chance, anyway.

Unfortunately, as you can see in the x-ray at right, the bone was too badly displaced for the bird to ever fly again, and we also discovered that he had severe bumblefoot in both feet. This is where the pads of the feet are punctured/torn/slashed and infection sets in.  Judging by the swelling in his feet, the infection was pretty bad by the time he got to us, and this is a long-term, difficult health issue to address, particularly when both feet are affected at the same time.

I’ve also had several calls, ranging from bats to possums, that didn’t result in intakes.  While the “downtime” has been nice, I’m cringing every time the phone rings, expecting the next call to signal the official beginning of baby season 2011—and as slow as things have been thus far, I’m afraid there will be a deluge, not a trickle!