More owls, more idiots 10/03/2009
In the past three weeks, LWR has received three imprinted owls. You read about the screech in the last update; since then, a Great Horned owl (GHO) and another screech have come in, both imprinted. The GHO also has a broken leg, most likely from improper handling, and the second screech has a massive concussion and a blood-filled eye, both most likely a result of having been sideswiped by a car after being dumped to fend for himself with no clue how to do so. What will be their ultimate fates? That’s still uncertain, as the GHO’s leg may also have nerve damage, and the second screech could lose vision in the damaged eye. Please don’t mistake my calm discussion of these birds for lack of ire or having vented all my frustration last update—I’m still homicidally infuriated and have spent many hours contemplating a fitting fate for the cretins who ruined these owls for life in the wild. Unfortunately, every punishment I’d like to mete out is considered cruel and unusual. Yeah, and kidnapping owls from the wild, trying to make pets of them, feeding them the wrong diet, forcing them to use improper perches, and then abandoning them to fend for themselves isn’t cruel and unusual?? I could rant about this for the remainder of this update, but I suspect I’m preaching to the choir, so let’s look at some of the less fury-inducing events at LWR over the past couple of weeks. The bluebird, both mourning doves and both possums have been released. The squirrel with the broken leg has joined her cousins in preparing for release. Below are some photos, from several weeks ago, of vets Jim Hobby and Shelley Baumann working on her. (They were slated for the last update, but the imprinted screech got priority.)  Going under  Tiny or not, it's still a two-person job!  Healing hands  All wrapped up  Almost done  Finishing touches  'You're in good hands...'  Look at me now!  LWR also received an older adult GHO who’d gotten tangled in the netting of a batting cage in another county. The finder couldn’t free the bird any other way than to cut the netting loose around the entangled owl, and I spent 15 minutes just cutting the netting off the wings—every feather seemed to have gone through a separate hole in his struggles to free himself. His right leg was somewhat swollen, so I kept him long enough to run him to Smalley’s the next day and be sure nothing was broken. After an additional day of observation, he was returned to the finder for release, and when I called to follow up, the finder’s family was ecstatic at having been able to release the owl back into his home territory. Look at his eyes—the deep gold color is a mark of a mature bird. The imprinted GHO with the broken leg also visited Smalley’s for the leg to be splinted. Below are photos of vet Peggy Hobby and vet techs Autumn and Jamie splinting her leg.  Why am I getting so sleepy?  Unwrapping my makeshift bandage  Let's stay asleep 'til we're done  Finishing touches  Why am I so woozy?  Look at the difference in her eye color, compared to the mature GHO above: the color deepens as the bird ages, so this marks her as a young bird. She’s absolutely magnificent, huh?  LWR also received two adorable flying squirrels, about 5-6 weeks old, who’d been unnested. Flyers aren’t uncommon in this area, but they are fairly infrequent rehab guests. These gorgeous, gentle little nocturnal squirrels are very social creatures, unlike gray squirrels, and tend to form colonies. When you’re outside and hear what sounds like birds chirping in the middle of the night, it’s actually flyers, chatting away to each other. We also had two more gray squirrels come in, male sibs who’d fallen hard from their nest, hard enough to bloody both their noses and break one’s bottom teeth and his right arm. The teeth will grow back; squirrels’ teeth continue to grow throughout their lives. The location of the break makes it pretty much impossible to splint, so vet Shelley Baumann and I agreed to try confinement to a pen that allows very limited mobility, in hopes that his young age and gravity will work in his favor to allow the break to heal properly. These two are doing better but still stiff and in some pain. No photos; they’re still too skittish and traumatized.  And finally, just yesterday, we received the second screech owl I mentioned at the beginning of the update. Isn’t he a gorgeous little fellow? Screeches have several color phases: brown, gray, white and red. He’s a red, as if that wasn’t pretty obvious! Vet Jim Hobby examined him today and found the right eye so full of blood that determining the full extent of the damage is impossible. We’re treating the eye to reduce inflammation and try to get the blood to drain, so that we can get a better idea of what’s going on with the eye. This little guy’s talons are also horribly overgrown, an indication that he’s not had proper perches. Based on the trauma to the eye, this fellow’s got a serious headache, in addition to the pain the eye must be causing. If he’s very lucky, the eye won’t have sustained so much damage that he’ll lose vision in it. Owls and idiots 09/17/2009
LWR recently received a young adult screech owl found in the road. Nothing unusual, right? I mean, I receive hit-by-car (HBC) critters of all types all the time, and owls seem to top the list of HBC intakes. Ah, yes, but you see, this little guy sent up all sorts of red flags. Where to begin? Well, let’s start with vet Peggy Hobby’s comment when I took him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital for an exam: she said he was awfully calm. (Actually, her exact words were along the lines of, “He’s not trying to take your face off, Vonda!”) I agreed, but we both attributed it to a concussion—the poor bird still had a massive headache from being sideswiped.  Shortly afterward, when I reached into his box to take him out to be fed, another red flag began waving vigorously. Young Screech came out of the box perching on my finger…calmly. Understand, screeches should make up in sheer viciousness what they lack in size—they’re only about 8 inches tall, full grown—and here I have a screech perched on my finger. Hmmm… Next red flag, which practically slapped me in the face, it was waving so hard: when I was done feeding him, Young Screech began grooming my hand, very gently “nipping” at it with his beak. Again, granted that his beak is small, but it’s just as capable as those of his larger cousins of inflicting very painful injury. And he’s preening my hand…can you see where this is headed? If not, let me spell it out for you: this owl is imprinted. Some fool apparently found him as a downy baby—or stole him from the nest; it’s not as uncommon a practice as you’d think—and tried to raise him as a pet. And as illegal as that is, it’s not even the worst of it. Through an improper diet, lack of visual stimuli as his eyesight developed, or prolonged exposure to bright lights while his eyes were developing--or a combination of these factors--Young Screech’s vision was impaired. Because owls have such excellent hearing, it’s hard to tell just how bad the damage to his eyesight is—is he turning toward me to look at me or because he hears my movement? We’re not sure. And the red flags just continued to accumulate: after a couple of times force feeding the bird, I discovered that I’d been doing it all wrong. Young Screech prefers to perch on a forearm or sit on a flat surface to be fed—then he eagerly snatches the food. But if he drops it, he struggles to find it, and his talons are so overgrown that it’s difficult for him to use them to hold the food so he can tear it with his beak. He’s never had a chance to really fly. He’ll flutter from the feeding perch to the floor; he’ll stretch his wings and flap them on the perch—but fly? Spread those wings and sail in soundless, gorgeous owl flight? Nope. And the vision problems may be a contributing factor there; we’re not sure. There’s more, like the fact that he’ll peck at the flat surface beneath his low perch like a chicken scratching for food when he drops meat, because he has difficulty seeing it, and the heartbreaking way he walks in circles, as if he’s never been in a space big enough to really move around, but what it all boils down to is that he’s horribly, horribly imprinted.  And the jerks (and I’m being VERY kind in using such a mild term) who imprinted him apparently got tired of caring for him—maybe the novelty wore off; maybe they got tired of feeding him; maybe they knew what they were doing was illegal and got scared—who knows? The point is, they dumped this bird who is most probably severely vision-impaired and most definitely totally unprepared for survival in the wild and left him to what could have been a slow and painful death by starvation, had he not had the “luck” to be sideswiped by a car and found by a good Samaritan who contacted LWR. Oh, but the behavior I’ve been describing is precious, and he’s such a cute rascal! Yeah, I’ll be the first to admit that the cute factor shoots straight through the roof with a screech owl. As for his behavior, it would indeed be precious for a parrot or a parakeet, but not for a wild bird. For a wild bird, it signals doom, as an imprinted bird—any imprinted wildlife, for that matter—cannot be released back into the wild and by law must be euthanized or transferred to an educational facility. Those facilities are chock-full of animals with stories similar to Young Screech’s…  And what will be his fate now? Young Screech is lucky: his calm demeanor and unflappable personality are working in his favor and raptor rehabber Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends is tentatively planning to use him as an educational bird, only because he recently lost Al, the great horned owl who had been his educational owl for over a decade. Prior to Al’s death, Steve had no room for another educational bird, and he’ll still have to apply to USFWS for a permit to keep Young Screech, even though it’s indisputable that he’s imprinted and non-releasable. All this goes back to what I mentioned in the last update—as rehabbers, we all too frequently have to clean up other people’s messes. When that animal is fed a crappy diet for weeks or months before we get it; when it’s treated like a pet and allowed to mingle with domestic animals and humans; when it’s injured by improper handling, we’re the ones who get to try and straighten out what some idiot’s done…and all too often, we’re the ones who get to watch helplessly as that animal dies, despite our best efforts, or we get to make the decision to euthanize an animal that, had we gotten it in time, would have been treatable and releasable—or, most infuriating and heartbreaking of all, we have to euthanize a reasonably healthy animal whose imprinting makes him/her unreleasable. Does this make me angry? No. It makes me homicidally infuriated, and even that doesn’t do justice to the depth of my feelings on the issue. Bottom line—as I’ve said repeatedly and will continue to shout from the proverbial rooftops, wildlife is best enjoyed in its natural habitat. If you find a wild baby, or even an injured adult, move the animal to safety, then minimize further human contact and CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY!!! Squirrels out the wazoo… 09/04/2009
Yep, this late summer/early fall is more than making up for the dearth of squirrels in rehab during the spring. So far I’ve released one baby and have 14 more at the moment, one of whom goes back to Smalley’s today to have a broken leg splinted, assuming the second set of x-rays doesn’t show any worse break than yesterday’s did—vet Jim Hobby wants to do another set to be sure, because she wasn’t real cooperative for us yesterday, so he’s planning to sedate her for today’s work. Why no sedation yesterday? She was “shocky” and traumatized, so we opted to get her stabilized first and then worry about the leg—splinting the leg does no good if your patient dies from stress/shock in the process!  Here’s a shot of the former pinkie, the one you’ve watched grow over the past 6 weeks or so. In another few weeks, she’ll be in the pre-release pen!  And here’s our new pinkie from last update, on August 24, a week after the last update…  …and here she is on Sept. 2. She’s growing nicely—can you see her rotund little belly?  This is just a cute shot of six of the squirrels that have come in recently. They’re all bedding together in a soft, warm “nest,” but in order to make sure everyone gets fed, I have to transfer ‘em somewhere as I feed each one—and all my carriers are currently occupied—so this little container that someone brought me a bird in was sitting there…hey, it works! Two of these babies had aspiration pneumonia and were extremely dehydrated and malnourished when they came in, as a result of being fed the wrong diet for a week and inhaling some of it into their lungs (aspirating). The person they came from basically decided they were dying and called me to take them. With fluids, meds and a proper diet, they’ve recovered and are slowly gaining weight. Folks, this is a common occurrence in wildlife rehab: some member of the general public finds a wild baby and decides to try and raise it without the first clue what they’re doing, or they search the Internet and find some cobbled-together, nutritionally unsound diet and use it—and then, when the baby is at death’s door, they decide that they’re out of their element and contact a rehabber. Basically, we get to clean up someone else’s mess, or watch in frustration as a baby we could have saved (had we gotten it in time) dies or must be euthanized. Don’t be this person; contact a wildlife rehabber immediately upon finding a wild baby or an injured wild adult of any kind. Humane issues aside, it’s against the law to possess wildlife without a permit, as I’ve repeated ad infinitum, ad nauseum… Stepping off the soapbox now, let me explain that while the possums are still doing well, there’s no photo of ‘em because they’re doing typical possum stuff; that is, they sleep all day! Actually, the female does wake up late afternoon and run all over the pen. I’m calling these two Manic and Depressive. Manic, the female, is well, manic—running all over the pen frantically, etc. Depressive wakes up long enough to hiss and growl at me from his bed and presumably eat and poop at night, given his weight gain. Honestly, I almost never see him out of bed!  The Cooper’s hawk from the 8-17 update had bacterial pneumonia in her right lung; after a course of antibiotics, she was released last week.  The tailless red-tail is now with Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends. Here’s a photo of Steve and his wife Angie the night they picked up the gorgeous lady and brought me a much-appreciated possum release pen that had been donated to Bubba & Friends. Raptor rehabbers don’t need possum release pens, but small mammal rehabbers most definitely do!  I apparently jinxed myself by mentioning late-season mourning doves in the last update, as I now have two at LWR, a fledgling and a nestling.   I also received a cat-attacked first-year bluebird Monday. Look at his color—male bluebirds are so much brighter than females! See those few tail feathers? The others were lost in the cat attack, those remaining feathers are broken and he’s managed to finish snapping off all but one of them as of today, but the remaining broken shafts will still have to be removed so that new feathers can come in properly. His puncture wounds are healing nicely, but he also has a broken scapula, which appears to be an old injury and possibly the reason the person’s cat was able to snag him in the first place. At the moment, he can’t fly; he can only break a fall. We’re giving him more time to see what happens. We’re not giving up easily on this gorgeous bird. And folks, let me preach a little more here: I love cats; three spoiled-rotten felines share my life. And because I love them, they’re indoor-only—it’s safer for them and for the wildlife around my house. If you want to enjoy the companionship of your cats AND the beauty of birds at your feeders/birdbaths, keep your cats inside. It helps prevent incidents such as the one that brought this young man to me…  Sometimes, the “neat” factor does kick in at LWR, when an unusual guest arrives, and that happened last weekend with the arrival of a first-year Great Blue Heron. These birds stand four feet or more high when they fully extend their very long necks, and they have dagger-like beaks which they know how to use as weapons.  This guy was lucky in that he had no injuries; he’d apparently just been pushed to a marginal food area by older and more dominant birds, so he was hungry and on the thin side. Watching him eat was a real hoot: he’d spear the fish with his lethal beak, toss them back into that very long throat—which expands to accommodate larger fish, by the way—and you could watch the fish wiggling as they travelled down his throat! After a couple of days of eating well—VERY well—he was good for release. The morning of his release, he expressed his gratitude by attempting to scalp me and pierce my eyebrow—such a lovely personality! As of this writing, LWR has received 172 animals for the year, and the fall slowdown is nowhere in sight. I’ve gotten used to operating on a severe sleep deficit; I’ve accepted the fact that my bloodshot eyes probably make me look like a drunk or a drug addict; I’ve adjusted to rehabbing all day and editing all night, assuming no wildlife calls come in at midnight—and they have, believe me, they have. I promise you, dignity and self-consciousness are the first casualties for a rehabber: I toss on whatever has the least animal poop on it to run to the vet; on late-night calls, people are likely to see me with sopping wet hair, no makeup and glasses; my house hasn’t been cleaned in nearly a month now (the rehab area is relatively tidy; my living area looks like it’s been condemned!); clothes get washed as I reach the last pair of clean underwear… So why do I do this? It’s all about the animals—human activity destroys their habitats daily; they’re forced into marginal areas to feed and breed; they’re hit by cars as they hunt in a long-established hunting area that now hosts a superhighway and/or a strip mall; people make no attempt to control their domestic animals until after they’ve attacked and seriously injured some wild animal... Taking in these injured, ill and orphaned critters is my way of attempting to make up for human stupidity and short-sightedness. Yeah, most of the birds and mammals I take in are as common as dirt, but I like to think that it’s the efforts of rehabbers like me who help to keep them common. No need for “angels”… 08/17/2009
Believe it or not, the 100 acre dream site sold two days after I sent out the last update—so much for a slow economy, huh? Oh well…I’m not happy but I don’t have time to sulk; sulking requires energy better spent on the rehabs that just keep comin’.  Our little pinkie from the last update is growing by leaps and bounds, as evidenced by this photo of her on 8-10…  …and this one taken today. She’s not a pinkie anymore! Amazing, huh?!  And I received another little pinkie, also a female, today. She’s pretty bruised up: the left side of her head is blue-black, as is her lower back, but she survived a fall that apparently killed her two siblings. The finders said both other babies were dead when they discovered them this morning. Squirrels can usually survive a fall of 100 feet or better with nothing more than bruises, but we had some wind yesterday that may have knocked these babies into branches on the way down, or they may have had branches fall on them—who knows? At any rate, this little girl is only around 5 days old and still has most of her dried-up umbilical cord in place.  The older squirrel is pretty close—another couple of weeks—to release and is weaning herself. Some squirrels will do that; others have to be gradually weaned. This lady is an independent little cuss and has decided she doesn’t need formula too often now that she’s a “big girl.”  The two new possums mentioned in the last update continue to grow slowly—with possums, growth always seems slower to me. The female is a friendly little thing; the male is a hissy, snarly little rascal.  The blue jay no longer comes down for supplemental feedings; here’s a shot of him sunning shortly before he stopped coming down to me. I love watching birds sun: it’s just gorgeous!  In other intakes, we had a great horned owl with a massively broken leg who had to be euthanized. Very little makes me cringe anymore, but when I saw his leg, I cringed. It was about the nastiest fracture I’ve seen in a while.  Continuing along the raptor trail, LWR also received a 1st-year Cooper’s hawk last week, and we’re still not sure what her issues are…but they are numerous. When she came in, she was severely dehydrated and unable to stand, in addition to being very emaciated.  Within 24 hours of fluids and food, and after a vet visit for x-rays to confirm that nothing was broken, she was able to sort of sit back on her butt.  By 48 hours, we had the ability to more or less crouch…but she still can’t perch or stand: she pitches forward, face-first. Raptor rehabber Steve Hicks & I have spent a lot of time tossing theories back and forth, and I also called Cornell University’s wildlife clinic for advice, and based on their recommendations, we’re headed back to the vet in the morning for some additional tests.  And today the police chief at the Carl Vinson VA Hospital called me with a downed red tailed hawk. This guy’s big and he’s gorgeous, and he’s missing all but one tail feather. Officer James Pettis & I chased him down—for some reason, he doesn’t seem to be able to fly, but he can run really fast! Officer Pettis said it had been a long time since he'd had to engage in a foot chase, but he nabbed his suspect today! This gorgeous bird will be making a vet visit tomorrow, too. Baby season should pretty much be over for songbirds, although there’s still the possibility of a few late-season nestlings/fledglings, and I have received very young mourning doves as late as early October. We’re into the second baby season for squirrels now, though, so I expect to see more furry (or pinkie) little ones right up through November. On a final note, I’ve had several people over the past few weeks ask about touring LWR. Sorry folks, that ain’t gonna happen. This is a rehab facility, not a zoo. The animals LWR houses are all slated for release, which means their contact with humans must be as limited as possible. I handle these critters only when feeding/medicating, so that even their contact with me is minimized. There are nature centers around that house non-releasable animals: visit them if you absolutely must see animals in captivity; otherwise, take a quiet walk in the woods, find a nice clearing, sit down, and enjoy whatever wildlife you happen to see—THIS is the best way to experience and appreciate our native wildlife. Any “angels” out there?? 08/02/2009
Laurens Wildlife Rescue just learned that 100 acres near our current location is for sale. This would be an ideal release site, as it’s heavily wooded—a mixture of hardwoods and pines—and there’s a clearing that would be perfect for an eventual state-of-the-art facility. Of course, LWR operates on a shoestring budget, so coming up with the $160,000 to purchase the land is going to require a miracle…or a lot of generous “angels.” Every little contribution would help; if you know people who have deep pockets and would like a huge tax deduction, refer them to me ASAP, please. (Or just send them to this website; every page except this one has a PayPal link at the bottom, and LWR’s mailing address is on the “How you can help” page.) This is an excellent price for the land, and I’ve already been dreaming about the gorgeous facility we could construct there. Why do we need the land? Because we continue to grow! LWR had 33 intakes for the month of July—the second time this year we’ve had more intakes in a month than days in the month. As of July 31, the total intakes for the year are 143. To give you an idea of what a heavy year this has been, for 2008 the total intakes for the entire year were 139. We’ve already surpassed that, with 5 months left in 2009…and baby squirrels are starting to trickle in…  Speaking of which, on July 21, I received an app. 10 day old gray squirrel. At this age, we call ‘em pinkies. Look at the photo and you’ll understand. The umbilical stump was still present. Pinkies are such helpless little things: they’re furless, blind and deaf; they can’t pee or poop on their own; and they can’t maintain their body temperature. Even feeding them is a laborious process, as we have to be extremely careful that they don’t get formula into their lungs and end up with aspiration pneumonia—and they have to be fed every couple of hours and at least once during the night.  She’s doing well, though, as evidenced by these photos from July 27…  …and August 1. See the grayish shadow on her face, back and tail? It's her fur coming in!  Shortly after receiving her, I got in another gray squirrel, this one app. 6 weeks old. She’s also doing well and eating quite enthusiastically. You can’t see it in this photo, but she’s got a nice little pot belly goin’ on! The passel o’possums mentioned in the last update have all been released; with possums, it’s a matter of size rather than age, and they’d all reached the right size for release. Below are some photos of the cute little buggers prior to and after their release.  Here we have snack time…  …being a possum in rehab is a hard life…  …really hard…  …which might explain the snarls upon release!  And we have this final shot of one of the girls just before she clambered down and ambled off.  I have two more small possums, but no photos of them yet—they just came in Friday. The mourning doves have been released; here’s a photo of one of them after release.  The blue jay who came in with the leg issue has been released. After his vet visit, mentioned in the last update, he never had another moment’s problem with that leg and is doing great outside the flight pen. Actually, he’s hanging around with two previously released jays from this summer, all of whom randomly scream at me and demand food, which they get, of course. Blue jays are such shameless little beggars! Unfortunately, the bluebird who had been having health issues in the last update didn’t make it. He began losing weight despite being fed every half hour for 14 hours a day. Even with the weight loss, he remained alert and vocal until a couple of days before I decided to euthanize. For the two days prior to the euthanasia, he struggled to swallow the food I was now having to force-feed; he slept all the time; and it was obvious that he was going downhill fast. The morning I called it, I walked into the “nursery” (my former dining room; I now eat at the bar) and found him on his side in his crate. Shortly afterward, we made the trip to Smalley’s, where vet Shelley Baumann agreed that euthanasia was the kindest option.  On a happier note, the deer have all been released. They’re at the right age, were pacing the pen restlessly, and have been ecstatic since their release a few days ago. Since I do soft releases with most of my rehabs, I’m able to monitor them for adequate food intake, etc. until they adjust totally to being on their own. These babies will probably hang around for a month or so, until they figure out they really don’t need me anymore.  Finally, just a reminder—let me know of any funding sources you might be aware of that could help LWR purchase the gorgeous release site I mentioned at the beginning of this update…all contributions will be cheerfully accepted! In the better late than never category… 07/18/2009
…we have this ever-so-slightly-late update. In my defense, I’m now on my fourth 20-hour day in a row and between picking up animals all hours of the day and night, running them to the vet (was at the clinic every day last week except Tuesday), feeding ‘em and editing to pay the bills, I’m sleep-deprived and just stretched rather thin. Been trying for four days to get this update together, too! Lessee…the barn swallow and blue jay have been released, as have the mockers. The deer continue to grow, and I get drooled on, kicked and generally mauled daily as I feed the not-too-bright little rascals. Deer are a classic example of beauty compensating for lack of intelligence, while poor possums are neither attractive nor intelligent…  Speaking of which, I’ve added five more possums to the mix, creating what I’m calling a “passel o’possums.” The older three are very tolerant of me, of course, as I’ve had them since before their eyes opened. The younger five, four from one litter and an “only,” don’t really like me too much, as their eyes were open when they came in, so I’m getting hissed and growled at a lot these days. It’s too funny! Honestly, they’ve got “playing possum” honed to a fine art, at their young age!  The mourning doves are in the flight pen and have been offered freedom but aren’t quite ready to give up the buffet. They’ll probably be ready to head out in another week or so—scroll back down to the update with photos of them when they first came in, and then look at this photo. Amazing, huh?!  I also have another blue jay. This little guy came in last weekend, unable to use his right leg. Nothing appeared to be broken, but since it was a weekend, I had to wait until Monday to have him checked out by Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s Animal Hospital. Peggy agreed that nothing was broken, and we opted for a steroid injection, in case there was some swelling that we couldn’t see/ feel. Within five hours, the little guy was perching.  And look at this shot from today—they grow SO quickly! Raptors continue to trickle in, as well: an immature red tail hawk was transferred to Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends raptor rehab; a broad wing with a nasty open wing fracture was euthanized; a young red shoulder hawk awaits transfer tomorrow; and a concussed adult barred owl has spent the federally allowed 48 hours with me and will be released today—no transfer because his concussion required only quiet and observation until his headache went away. Interestingly enough, all were hit by car (HBC). The red tail bounced off a car doing 35mph and sustained a fractured hip, which Steve is guardedly optimistic can be treated. The red shoulder cracked the windshield of a car doing 50mph and didn’t even have a feather out of place, but he’s a very young bird and shouldn’t be out on his own yet, hence his pending transfer. The owl got whacked so hard that he’s got a huge bald spot on the back of his head, but no serious injuries. All I know on the broad wing is that the DNR ranger who brought her to me said she’d been HBC. Her wing pretty much looked like hamburger, so there was no doubt what needed to be done.  RED TAIL HAWK  RED SHOULDER HAWK  RED SHOULDER HAWK CLOSEUP  BARRED OWL-taken while he was still VERY woozy.  I also transferred a raccoon to Bonnie Walker, who has her Rabies Vector Species (RVS) permit. Bonnie’s a lifesaver when I get RVS : she’s taken a fox, a bat and a couple of coons from me already this year.  I also received a nestling blue bird on the 15th. On the 16th, the adorable wee one developed sudden-onset, explosive diarrhea consisting of undigested food. Most of you know that I’m a total fool for bluebirds, so I went into extreme emergency mode with this baby, putting him (or her; not enough feathers in yet to say for sure) on heat, even though the bird’s old enough not to need supplemental heat, and starting antibiotics. So far, so good—the diarrhea was cleared up by the next morning and the poop was digested food again, but we’re staying on heat and antibiotics for a few more days.  Little bitty baby blue has grown considerably in the past three days, too, huh?!  And while this squirrel isn’t one of my current rehabs, she may very well be one of my past releases. At any rate, I thought this shot of her gnawing on a bone while sitting on the tree limb was pretty neat. Squirrels gnaw everything to keep their teeth worn down—their teeth continue to grow throughout their lives and if they’re not kept worn down, they can get so long the squirrel can’t eat and dies. Bones, antlers and the like are great “teethers” for squirrels, with the added bonus of providing much-needed calcium to the little bushy-tails. Since I actually dozed off while typing this update, in between feeding critters, my plan is to get at least five hours’ sleep tonight…maybe… Baby season remains heavy… 07/01/2009
…although we had “just” 21 total intakes for the month of June, down from May’s 36. I won’t complain! July & August typically see a slight slowdown in birds, with August seeing babies begin to come in from the second squirrel breeding season. We’ll see, huh?  The ground dove has been released but is still hanging around the flight pen. She’s made amazing progress from the bleeding little hatchling who came in just a few short weeks ago.   The possums are too adorable, bless their dim-witted, ungainly little hearts. They’re branching out as far as food and exploring all the tasty tidbits I place in their cage. Their teeth still aren’t big enough for hard foods, so we’re doing soft stuff in addition to formula. As long as they can sleep all day and eat all night, they’re happy campers.  Here’s a cute shot of one of the rascals sleeping in a position that makes me wince. He was perfectly content, though, and remained sound asleep for the longest!  The barn swallow is in the flight pen now, along with a blue jay who came in a couple of weeks ago. Both are good to go; I offered them the chance earlier today, but when they hadn’t flown the coop by noon, I closed the flight pen door for the day. We’ll follow the same routine for the next several days and see what happens.    I also finally managed to snap a couple of shots of the deer, in pairs. The neurotics tend to hang together, and the psychotic and sorta normal ones have bonded.   Three mockers came in the same day last week, one by himself and the other two more or less together (from the same nest, but one wasn’t discovered on the ground until the other had already been brought to me).They’ve truly grown like weeds and are already starting to try and perch.  In case you’re wondering how it is that baby birds, incapable of flight, manage to become unnested, there are a variety of reasons: wind can unnest them; their siblings, in jostling around in the nest, can push them out; sometimes when they back their little butts up to the nest edge to poop, they overbalance and fall out… And then you have mourning doves, whose nests are a joke to begin with and can collapse at the slightest movement by the supporting branches or the babies…  These little mourning doves, two actual siblings, were also brought in on the same day, for the same reason: their nests had collapsed, in the case of the single dove, killing all her siblings. These are the three little sweethearts on June 19.  Here they are again on June 21.  June 24.  June 27.  And yesterday, June 30. It never ceases to amaze me how rapidly songbirds mature!  I also released a young barred owl who spent 24 hours with me while recovering from a concussion, and transferred a baby bat. He came in as a purported brown bat, but he looks black to me! And I’m running a couple of minutes late on bird feedings—gotta go stuff gaping beaks! June 11 saw LWR’s 100th intake in 2009… 06/17/2009
…and we’ve still got six months to go in this year! Of course, after the height of baby season peaks, things will slack off slightly…maybe…we’ve still got a couple of months for feathered babies, and then we’ll have the late summer/fall litters of squirrel babies.    And here are some shots of some of them post-release. They’re all still mobbing me when I walk into the yard, but they don’t really need me. The blue jays are especially funny about this, as they’ll come screaming down for food from me with big, juicy worms or ripe berries already in their beaks. They then have to decide where to stash what they have to make room for what I’m offering. This results in either a quick gulp to down the berry or pinning the worm beneath a claw, followed by loud declarations that they’re starving to death. Ya gotta love blue jays—the loud, brash, greedy rascals!    And here’s something I’ve never seen before—one of my released mockers developed a cowlick before his release—it’s too cute!  Look closely at this series of photos—can you see the wrens in the first shot?  They’re more obvious here.  And here’s a good close-up of them. Wrens like places to hide, and this branch with dead leaves was an ideal camouflage for the night. Neat, huh? I almost didn’t see them myself, but when I did, of course, I ran for the camera.  The ground dove continues to progress nicely and is attempting to fly some now. She’s actually physically ready for the flight pen, but doves have to be totally self-feeding before they can be placed into a flight pen. We’re working on that now; she’s down to two hand-feedings a day. In new intakes, I have a fourth deer. No photos of this one yet, as he’s slightly psychotic. Yeah, last year I had massively aggressive deer; this year I have two neurotics, one psychotic and one sweetheart. I need a blasted wet-suit to go into the deer pen, too, since the two neurotics take great pleasure in licking every exposed portion of my skin. I come out drenched in formula and deer spit—what a lovely combination!  I also have three adorable possums who came in with very little fur and eyes still closed. They were also ice cold and starving, but I couldn’t feed them until I got them warmed up—feeding a cold baby of any species, even a bird, will kill it. Their eyes have recently opened, but I don’t have shots of them with open eyes—the flash isn’t good for eyes still adjusting to being open, so you’ll have to make do with these shots of the group when they came in and below, a close-up of one of the cuties. (Come on, you KNOW you think possums are cute…at least, when they’re babies!)   We also received two barn swallows within two days of each other. One was a recent fledge who apparently had a nest injury and some other unidentified issues that didn’t show until she attempted to fledge and hit the ground like a brick. We gave her over a week, but she never developed the ability to fly, and she started losing feathers and weight, despite being fed every half hour. She was euthanized yesterday. The other barn swallow came in as a tiny little thing, eyes barely opened (see above photo). It took a week of force-feedings before she decided she’d gape for me, and now she gapes like crazy and has grown like a weed. She’s a precious little girl who’s just started “flying in place” on the edge of her nest cup, so it won’t be long before she’s ready for the flight pen, too.  As with the 6-1 update, this was written in spurts between feeding critters and I’m still operating on 4 hours’ sleep a night, so any mistakes or omissions are due to sleep deprivation and the more important distraction of feeding my young charges. Please do note that on the “Contact Us” page of the website, there is now an e-mail address in addition to the submission form: laurenswildliferescue@progressivetel.com . And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to feed the birds before I feed the deer, then feed the birds before I feed the possums, then feed the birds... 31 days, 36 intakes...frazzled? Who, me?? 06/01/2009
What a month! I’ve never had more intakes than days in the month before, but there ya go—always room for a first.  As for releases, all the denizens of the flight pen have been released; at right and below are photos of a couple of the released wrens, one sunning and one perching in a Cherokee rose bush.  The rabbits have been released; two more came in and were also released—no photos of them, as they were only with me overnight for observation, since they’d been taken from dogs’ mouths. There were no injuries, and they were at the age where it was best to return them to the wild ASAP. I’ve seen both the most recent releases hopping around the deer pen lately, so I know they’re doing well.  Here’s a shot of the wrens from last update right after they started perching…  …and some of them perching in the flight pen with the two mockers who also came in over the past couple of weeks.  We also received a brown thrasher, Georgia’s state bird and one of my favorites to rehab because they’re such sweet, attractive birds. As adults, they have gorgeous yellow eyes; this little lady still has juvenile brown eyes.  I also received a nestling ground dove, the victim of a cat attack. Her wound looked pretty life-threatening, as a chunk of her tiny wing was missing and I wasn’t sure when it healed that the feathers would grow in, but she’s feathering out nicely, and we have new feather growth where the wound was. Obviously, she also was given antibiotics, as cat saliva and to a lesser extent dog saliva is toxic to birds, as well as squirrels, rabbits, etc. Here she is the day she came in.  This is our dove a week later…  …and just yesterday.  Two blue jays also are temporary residents of LWR. One was rescued from a dog pen; one was unnested during stormy weather and came in with severe lung crackling which made me doubtful he’d pull through. After several days of antibiotics and force feedings, he decided he was going to live, though, for which I’m grateful. I’d have to rank blue jays among my faves to rehab, as well. They’re the smallest members of the Corvid (crow) family and as such, are lively, intelligent birds who’re just loads of fun to watch. Here we have the two “Big Boys” pre-flight pen…  …and in the flight pen.  We also had a nest full of house finches, just days old, come in. Here they are upon arrival...  …and yesterday, when two of the four decided to perch. This morning, all four were perching.  There have been two more mocker nestlings, as well, one last week and one yesterday. At left and below are photos of the older mocker upon arrival and yesterday.   And here’s a shot of the mocker who arrived yesterday. Cute tale with this little guy: the lady who found him in her carport brought her sons with her to deliver the bird, and she informed me that the younger boy had offered to chew his corn at lunch and feed it to the mocker, as he’d read somewhere that mama birds regurgitate food to their babies. Actually, the little fellow wasn’t far off, as pigeons and doves do feed their young dove or pigeon “milk”—the baby sticks its head into its parent’s beak and is fed this “milk,” which is partially digested food. I have high hopes for this caring young lad!  We also have two more deer, shown separately here. No shots of the three of them together yet, as my hands are rather full when they’re all three up and active—that means it’s feeding time and I’m fighting to avoid drowning in deer spit and drooled formula!   In transfers, we had a downy hawk, exact species still up for debate, who went to Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends…  …and a young red fox who went to Bonnie Walker of M&W Wildlife Rehabilitation. And that should bring us up to date for the moment…I think. No rants, no real details, no discussions of the ones who didn’t make it for this update—I’m having to do it in spurts between feedings. At the moment, my days are broken into 20 minute chunks—that’s about the longest I have between rounds of feedings, from 6:30 am until 8:30 or 9:00pm, after which I begin my “paying job” of freelance editing—what, you thought my bills paid themselves because I devote my time to wildlife rehab? I wish! Then maybe I could get more than 4-5 hours’ sleep a night during this very hectic baby season! 16 days, 16 animals… 05/17/2009
…and no, you don’t get pix and backgrounds on every single one—this is an update, not a novel!  Folks, this photo might not be all that gruesome to you, but realize that when I snapped it, the poor robin’s legs were paralyzed, his wings were headed that way, and he was struggling for every breath because the pesticides work by paralyzing the nervous system. So why did I photograph a dying bird and post it here? Because I wanted you to see what birds suffer when they ingest the chemicals you think are so necessary to keep your lawn perfectly manicured. The poisons can get on their legs/feet, where the skin is thin and exposed, and be absorbed into their systems; they can get them on their feathers and ingest them when they preen; they can eat plants/insects with the poisons on them; and perhaps most horrific, they can take these poisoned insects/seeds back to their nests and kill their babies simply by feeding them—all so people can satisfy their vanity and have weed-free and truly sterile lawns. I ask you again, which would you rather have: a “perfect” yard that’s toxic to wildlife or a slightly scruffy, weedy yard that’s safe for wildlife?  On a happier note, the wrens and finch have been moved to the flight pen and are actually good for release as soon as the weather cooperates. Here are a couple of shots of some of them in the pen. Can you spot the finch, boys and girls?   And this is turning into the year of the rabbits and wrens. Yep, got in another rabbit and another entire nest of wrens!  Here are the Carolina wrens on May 11, the day I received them...   ...and three days later, on May 14...  ...and today, May 17. Amazing how quickly the little rascals grow, isn’t it?!  I also have one fawn at the moment. I had two come in from separate locations on the same day; one didn’t make it through the night. I suspect malnourishment, although I can’t be sure—he was rail-thin, undersized and very shaky. He’d been bottle-fed for a week before I got him, but I don’t think he’d been getting enough and by the time I got him, there was nothing else to be done for him. This little one, however, is normal size and weight, with a healthy appetite.  And we currently have a nestling mockingbird at LWR, the first of the year—just look at that face! Mockers are really sweet nestlings; they turn into bullies as fledglings; and they’re aggressive, territorial, terroristic little snots as adults, but ya gotta love a diurnal bird who’s so self-assured that he’ll burst into song at night, announcing his presence to all nearby predators! | ArchivesAugust 2010 CategoriesAll |
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