Sorry, but there’s very little good news in this update, and the stats I said would be ready for this update are not, as actual rehab took precedence over crunching numbers…not that it mattered, ultimately. Every intake since the January update has either been DOA or required euthanasia. This is, however, an accurate snapshot of what rehabbers experience on a regular basis…and yes, it frequently sucks, for lack of a more elegant term.

The broadwing from the last update isn’t healing properly, so she’s looking more and more likely to be nonreleasable.  She’s slated for transfer soon for further evaluation by Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends raptor rehab, to determine her ultimate fate.

I picked up this barred owl on a Sunday morning. He was found by the side of the road, so HBC (hit by car) was a fairly good guess, only he showed no signs of concussion or other injury. The inside of his beak was very pale, however, and he was rail-thin, so I started treatment for parasites, and he perked up within a few days. Sadly, it was a short-lived victory, as he declined rapidly a week after intake and required euthanasia.

On my way back from picking up the ill-fated barred owl, I saw flashing blue lights in front of me on the interstate, and as I passed by, two deputies were blocking the right lane to protect a downed vulture. I pulled over and walked back to where they were. One of the deputies met me, exclaiming, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you the bird lady? I’m so glad to see you!”

The black vulture had been hit by a truck the deputies had pulled over, and they had been trying to determine how best to move him before oncoming traffic flattened him. The injured vulture shakily stood up and we herded him to the shoulder of the road. While the deputies watched to make sure he didn’t head back into traffic,  I ran back to my car to retrieve gloves, blanket and box. Vultures can run very quickly and can be quite difficult to catch, even when injured—and I did end up chasing him down an embankment and tossing the blanket over him to capture him.

His head had a nasty gash, but there were no other external signs of injury. Unfortunately, he apparently had internal injuries; he died during the night.

This gorgeous mature red tail came in a little over a week later. An eight year old boy got off the bus and went to see what his Chihuahua was “pointing” in a low-limbed tree. Upon seeing this bird in the tree, the child climbed the tree, retrieved the bird and took him home to ask his father if they could keep him. The father loaded boy and bird into his car and headed for the Dublin-Laurens Humane Society, where shelter manager Irene Sumner called me.

Upon arrival at the shelter, I found the child still holding the bird, unrestrained, in his lap. I took the bird and tried to explain the dangers of what he’d just done, pointing out the hawk’s very sharp talons and graphically describing the damage they could do. I could tell I wasn’t getting through, though, because that had not been the child’s experience.

The red tail turned out to be glove-trained; his beak and talons were overgrown; he was rail-thin. I discussed his condition with two other rehabbers and ran him in the next day for vet Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s Animal Hospital to examine. Vet Richie Hatcher also weighed in on the bird’s behavior. The general consensus was that this poor hawk had been raised in captivity and never taught to hunt properly, and then, some two years later, dumped to fend for himself.

Because he was so emaciated, I offered small meals several times a day. The night before his vet visit, he ate two small mice on his own. The next morning, I had to force-feed. Four hours after his vet visit, he began vomiting undigested food.  I treated for the vomiting, but it didn’t stop it. About two hours later, he had fallen off his low perch. I picked him up, only to have him die in my arms. What little care I could provide was too little, too late—his system had already begun shutting down and he was incapable of digesting the food he’d eaten. He died of starvation.

We have no way to definitively prove that his death was a result of human stupidity, of course, and no way to determine who was responsible, but I can guarantee you that I’d like to nail someone’s hide to the barn door.  It’s taken all my restraint to write this calmly about the situation, so enjoy my relative calm while you can; it’s unlikely to occur again.

This gorgeous sharp shinned hawk came in last week with an open wing fracture and the tip of his beak missing. The beak would grow back—and was in the process of doing so; it was an old injury. An open wing fracture, though, is generally a death sentence for a bird; we knew he would require euthanasia. Because I’m paranoid about possible gunshot wounds, however, we decided at Smalley’s to do an x-ray just to rule out that possibility. Thankfully, there was no lead in the wing, but the fracture was even worse than the physical exam indicated.

And today, as I was working on this update, I received a call from a family who’d rescued a cedar waxwing from their cat…TWO DAYS ago. Today it couldn’t stand, which is the only reason they called me, despite the fact that possession of a wild bird by a non-licensed individual is a violation of state and federal law.  When I picked up the bird, just a cursory parking lot exam revealed dried blood on the left wing, the same side of the body the bird was having problems with. I started him on antibiotics and made him as comfortable as possible, but he died 90 minutes later. Had I gotten him TWO DAYS ago, when the injury was fresh and before the toxins in the cat saliva had spread throughout his system, he might have had a pretty good chance at survival, as no bones appeared to be broken.

Folks, ANY time you rescue ANY wild bird or animal from a cat, it needs to be taken to a licensed rehabber IMMEDIATELY for treatment. Cat saliva is designed to break down protein; even if the animal appears uninjured, if it ingests any of that saliva in the process of preening or grooming, it can still be fatal. And always, ALWAYS seek out a licensed rehabber when any critter you rescue has even a drop of blood evident.

I’ll repeat what’s becoming my mantra yet again: No matter how cute and cuddly a critter looks, no matter how “neat” you think it would be to attempt to raise or treat that critter yourself, no matter what a “wonderful learning experience” you think it might be for your children, even if your ultimate goal is to release it, IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO DO SO if you don’t have the proper permits—and your well-meaning ignorance can cost that critter its life!

Hopping off the soapbox for now to remind you that the Great Backyard Bird Count will be Feb. 17-20 this year. No matter where you live, you can participate; this is one of the easiest bird counts to take part in.  You can count for as little as 15 minutes for just one day, although I think it’s fun to count for at least half an hour each day. Parks are legitimate sites for participation, for you urban dwellers!

I had intended to resume twice-monthly updates this month, with the end of the holidays, but life and work intervened. Editing schedule was fairly heavy, end-of-year reports to state and feds are due (and still not completed) and I was trying to get everything organized for my annual pilgrimage to New York.

The poor little flyer I ranted about last month began having seizures again, one after another, and I ended up having to euthanize him. This is what happens when unlicensed individuals with no training decide they can attempt to rehab an animal. The poor fellow lost his life because of someone else’s stupidity and arrogance.

The cat-attacked robin, however, had a nice set of tail feathers grow back in. As soon as they were long enough to give him an in-flight rudder, I released him. He was quite a happy camper!

The three female red tails were transferred to Bubba & Friends raptor rehab, two for flight conditioning and one for assessment as an educational bird. The first year’s broken wing isn’t healing properly and it looks as if she’ll be nonreleasable. At last report from Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends, the two mature birds are doing well in flight pens and the first year looks promising as an ed bird.

The screech with the broken wing will not be releasable; he will also become an ed bird.  Fortunately, he also has a fairly good personality…for a screech…

I did, however receive another screech who was releasable after a few days’ observation. His intake involves one of those “What???” tales…The call came in at 10:30 pm. The caller had hit a “mama” owl but rescued the “baby”. This was just before Christmas, and while there might possibly have been eggs in the nest, this was the wrong time of year for “baby” owls, much less “baby” owls out of the nest and flying around. I guessed it was actually a screech who’d been chased by a barred owl, as barreds will eat screeches. I explained to the caller what to do for the night, as we were a good distance from each other.

The next morning, I met the caller and companions halfway and sure enough, when they uncovered the owl, it was a good-sized female screech. I explained that this was an adult bird and asked what the larger owl looked like. The people, however, were still fixated on the screech—were screeches extinct?  Sometimes you just have to bite your tongue to keep the smart-arse replies from popping out…I explained that if they were extinct, they wouldn’t have a living, breathing specimen in the cage and asked again what the larger owl looked like. “I dunno—an owl. We thought it was a duck at first.”

Duck…owl…I’m not seeing the resemblance there. I pull out my cell phone and show them a photo of a barred owl. “That’s it! Looks just like a duck!”

Seriously, folks, I can’t make up stuff this good!

ANYway, the “extinct, duck-chased” screech stayed with me for a few days for observation, as the callers shouldn’t have been able to capture the bird had there not been some sort of issue. All I could figure was shock and exhaustion, as she ate well for me and was alert and aggressive.

I also received three more flying squirrels, after having to get the game warden involved. The caller this time was from a county where there is a licensed rehabber, whom I know well. She was out of commission for health reasons and had referred the people with the flyers to me. I was more than willing to take the little rascals, and the caller said they’d had them for only a few hours. I explained what to do to get them through the night and made arrangements to meet them halfway, with time to be determined the next morning.

The next morning, no call…I called the number I had…No answer. I kept trying and finally got through and they began hemming and hawing. I knew they planned to keep the flyers, even though the only care advice I gave them was Pedialyte or sugar water for the night, until they could get them to me. I called the game warden for that area and explained the situation. Less than 15 minutes later, I received a call asking me if I could come all the way to pick up the flyers, as the callers had suddenly developed car problems—not enough gas or some such excuse. After bringing the game warden into the picture, I was certainly not abandoning these babies, so I agreed to drive all the way.

In the meantime, I called the other rehabber to apprise her of the situation and double-check their tale. Turns out they’d called her 24 hours before they’d gotten in touch with me, asking how to raise the flyers. She told them it was against state law, that she couldn’t take them, and referred them to me. When I met the people and picked up the flyers, I mentioned that I knew they’d had the babies for 48 hours, and they swore this was not true. Whatever…I asked what they’d been feeding aside from sugar water. They’d “looked online” and “saw to give them nuts”, but all they had was applesauce.

So…for 48 hours, these young, growing flyers had the equivalent of an all-candy diet. Folks, the Internet is NOT the source for information on feeding wildlife. There’s all sorts of crap out there that will kill or seriously debilitate a wild animal if you follow the instructions you find online! Applesauce and nuts are CANDY for squirrels, not real, nutritious food. Would you feed your child nothing but candy??

At any rate, I’ve had the little rascals for nearly a month now, and they’ve had a proper diet and are doing just fine. They and the older flyer are all together now and are wilding up nicely. By early spring, when the weather warms up, they should be releasable to join the colony of flyers that lives in the woods around my house.

This Eastern towhee wasn’t as lucky. He came in with no apparent injuries, nothing indicating pesticide poisoning—no real reason for him to be grounded. X-rays revealed nothing, but his tail skewed to the right, so we guessed he was a window-strike victim and gave him something to reduce any swelling that might have occurred as a result of the surmised window strike. He died less than 12 hours after intake, and we’re still not sure why.

This red shoulder came in Christmas Eve. The finder saw the car in front of him clip the bird and not even slow down, so he stopped and called 911, who called me. While nothing appeared to be broken and there was no bleeding from any orifices on intake, he apparently had internal injuries, as he died shortly after I got him home.

On New Year’s Eve, I received a barred owl who’d gotten hung in a barbed wire fence. I shudder when I hear those words, because usually the entangled bird—most often a great horned or barred owl—will have a totally mangled wing, calling for euthanasia. This guy was lucky; he had no breaks and minimal raw flesh, so after a week or so of R&R at LWR, he was good to go. No photos of his release; he launched his feathered butt out of the box like there was a rocket beneath him and headed straight for the densest thicket he could find!

Over the long weekend, I made my annual pilgrimage to NYC and met up with quite a few of the folks I’d been chatting with on the NYC/NYU hawkcam. To my delight, the Long Island rehabbers, Bobby & Cathy Horvath, were also able to join us. Bobby & Cathy and I had been chatting/emailing for several months and had planned to try and meet because we share similar philosophies on wildlife rehab. Despite the frigid temps, the Horvaths were able to provide the chatters with an educational program and we were able to talk shop for a while. It’s always nice to extend your network of professional contacts to include folks who work in a totally different setting!

While in the city, I received a call from a game warden back home with a broad winged hawk who’d been found near railroad tracks in his home base city. I explained what he needed to do until I could get home to pick up the bird and since I was dealing with a game warden, my instructions were actually followed!

The broad wing, a female based on weight and foot size, has a right-wing injury; X-rays showed no breaks or dislocations, so we’re operating on the assumption that she has one of two issues: soft tissue injury or a fractured scapula, which doesn’t always show in an x-ray. The treatment for both is basically the same: time and meds. She’s also very thin so I’m treating for capillaria, as well. Keep your fingers crossed for this lady as we continue to monitor her situation.

And just today I got a call from near the Georgia-Florida line about a screech owl extricated from barbed wire. I explained that I could meet the caller halfway and he balked at driving an hour to meet me, so I referred him to another rehabber about the same distance away, one of the five of us south of Atlanta who’re licensed for raptors.  I’ll be honest; it irritates the crap out of me when people call with an injured, ill or orphaned animal and then don’t have the decency to meet me or another rehabber halfway.  And I’ll lay you odds he didn’t contact the other rehabber, either, as the last comment the caller made was that he was near Okefenokee and was waiting on someone from there to get back with him. NO ONE connected with Okefenokee Swamp is a licensed rehabber. I’ve been through this in past years with people from that area, and I pointed out to the caller that this could create problems for everyone concerned—the caller as well as the person at Okefenokee he surrendered the bird to.  Didn’t seem to matter to him, and to be quite frank, at some point you just have to pick your battles. The bird was more than likely, based on his description, going to require euthanasia.  As harsh as it sounds, it just wasn’t worth my time and gas to drive nearly to Florida and back to retrieve a screech who would then require another trip in the opposite direction to be put down. That would have taken up the better part of my day, and I do have other animals under my care who DO have a chance at release and need my attention. Sometimes it’s a matter of gritting your teeth and reminding yourself that you not only can’t save them all; you also can’t be responsible for rescuing them all.  And yes, that reality sucks—on both counts.

I’ll have all the 2011 stats done by the next update, for those of you who like looking at numbers.

Well, granted, since it’s not baby season, I’m not taking in 30-35 critters a month, but I still have a full house at the moment, with three red tails, a screech owl, two flying squirrels and a robin. I think that’s everybody, anyway…

The older flyer is pretty fully recovered from his cat attack and will overwinter with me now. Below are a couple of obligatory cute shots of him.

This barred owl came in with a severely damaged eye and a cracked beak after being hit by a car. See the bruise on the inside of his beak?

The beak was actually healing nicely, but he lost sight in his “good” eye and the damaged one began to shrivel. At this point, our only option was to euthanize the poor fellow.

The mature female red tail from the last update has been cleared for transfer for flight conditioning. For those of you who wonder why I don’t do my own flight conditioning, at the moment I don’t have even one raptor flight pen. One flight pen is sufficient for all my songbirds, but the raptor world doesn’t work that way. The various species of raptors don’t play well together, necessitating multiple flight pens. Bubba & Friends raptor rehab has 14 flight pens, so my raptors are transferred there for flight conditioning.

The first year red tail from the Nov. update continues to progress nicely. She goes in next week for another x-ray. This shot was taken at Smalley’s a couple of weeks ago, on her last visit. Doesn’t she look festive, thanks to vet Shelley Baumann?

This brown thrasher, Georgia’s state bird, came in from a neighboring county. He had been snatched from a dog’s mouth, and I suspect he had crushed ribs—as a rule, dogs crush; cats tear/puncture—but he died 10 minutes after I picked him up, before I could get him to the vet for x-rays.

However, this cat-attacked robin was lucky in that he only lost his tail feathers. While birds without tail feathers can fly, they have no real control over direction; the tail acts as a sort of rudder. This perfectly healthy robin will be with me until his tail feathers begin growing back in.

Screech owls are amazingly vicious to be so small, so I’ve resigned myself to being a pincushion when working with them. This little red phase screech, probably HBC, has a trashed left eye and a broken left shoulder. The eye is irreparable; the wing is a “wait and see” issue—the break is close to the joint, so it may freeze the joint as it heals.

In news of the weird, this has to be one of the oddest things I’ve ever seen. Folks brought me this barred owl, found by the side of the road, last Friday night and when I picked him up to assess the damage, I felt matted feathers. Not good, I thought, probably an open fracture…and then as I tried in the dim light of the parking lot to find the wing to palpate it, I realized there was no wing. The owl’s wing had been ripped off!

I honestly didn’t expect him to make it through the night, but Saturday morning he was alert and aggressive. The ripped-off wing, however, was a death sentence for the poor owl. Vet Richie Hatcher saw this guy and was as amazed as I had been that he survived such a traumatic injury, but our only option was to euthanize.

The next day, Sunday, I got a call that I’m still fuming about. A person who brought me gray squirrels in late summer and KNEW it’s illegal to possess wildlife without a permit had found a young flying squirrel and had been “trying to rehab” him for a week. Okay, first off, only LICENSED rehabbers can rehab; anyone else is just screwing around with animals illegally.  Secondly, this person cut corners by using some off-brand formula and then called me when the poor little flyer began failing because of a week’s worth of improper diet.

I took the flyer and didn’t hold out much hope, frankly. He was dehydrated, underweight, had diarrhea, and began having seizures, as well. Monday morning we headed to Smalley’s, where vet Peggy Hobby and I discussed possible treatment options. We tried an injection of vitamins given to animals when they’re malnourished, and I called a squirrels-only rehabber, Sarah Rowe, of Columbus, GA, to see what else she recommended. Between the three of us, we came up with a treatment plan that we were honestly not sure would save his little life. In fact, that night, he began having grand mal seizures, one after another, which was a horrifying thing to watch.

By the next morning, however, he was showing some slight signs of improvement, and as of today, he’s still scruffy looking but is alert and eating well and hasn’t had a seizure in two days. We still don’t know the extent of the brain damage, if any, from the two days of seizures, though, and he may be unreleasable. Only time will tell.

Soapbox time here, people: I can grit my teeth and deal with folks who screw up wildlife out of ignorance, but KNOWING what you’re doing is illegal and KNOWING that there’s a licensed rehabber less than 20 miles away means there’s absolutely NO excuse for half-killing an animal with arrogant stupidity. You can’t cut corners on food or care, and there’s a hell of a lot more to rehab than just feeding an animal. You’ve got to know what to feed, how much, how often, what dietary supplements to provide, what potential parasites or other health problems to look for, etc., etc. There’s a REASON we have permits; they show we have the knowledge and training needed to give the wildlife in our care the best possible chance at survival and release. I don’t care how “cute” or “cuddly” the critter is, the bottom line is that if it’s in your possession for longer than it takes to get it to a licensed rehabber, you’re breaking the law—and what kind of example is that to set for your children?? Huh??? Did you ever think about that??

Okay, deep breath here, and on to a “kudos to you” tale. The huge (nearly 4 lbs!) adult female red tail pictured below was spotted by an individual who watched her for nearly an hour before deciding that she was in distress. This was a perfectly reasonable course of action, and I applaud this person for having the presence of mind to observe closely before taking action. When I got her, my initial exam indicated nothing was broken and she didn’t show signs of any of the common diseases red tails are prone to, so I decided to have my wonderful vets at Smalley’s take a look at her to see if I’d missed anything. In the time it took me to get her to the clinic, she started bleeding from the beak—NOT a good sign.

Vet Peggy Hobby and I discussed the possibilities: she could have a bit of bone lodged the wrong way in her crop; it could be trauma from a collision with a vehicle…or—my first thought and one Peggy & I hated to contemplate—she’d eaten a mouse or rat that had ingested rat poison. We opted to err on the side of caution and treat her for poisoning.

For those of you who don’t understand how rat poison works, when the rodent ingests the poison, it causes internal bleeding. The animal bleeds to death. While it’s dying, however, it’s slow and easy prey for a raptor, who then ingests the poison second-hand and, if not treated in time, will also bleed to death. This is why I’m adamantly against poisons, insecticides, pesticides, etc.—they kill innocent victims, and it’s an agonizing death.

This lady was lucky that an observant bystander noticed her odd behavior and got her to LWR early enough that minimal damage seems to have occurred. She threw up the morning after intake and, as we’d suspected, there was a nasty, congealed mass of dead mouse. But there was no more bleeding, which was a good sign. Today is her third day in rehab, and as of this morning she’s no longer throwing up, she’s perching most of the time, and we’re still not seeing any further bleeding. It’s obvious that she’s still not fully recovered, but she’s getting there. We’re cautiously optimistic at this point that she’s gonna make it.  Tomorrow I’ll offer her a mouse to eat on her own; I’ve been hand-feeding her, and now it’s time to see if she’s recovered to the point that she’ll eat without help.

What do I want for Christmas? For all the critters currently under my care to be releasable!

Just so you’re forewarned: I’ve had several really nasty injuries come through this month and there are some pretty graphic photos below. Why, you ask? Because too many people assume that wildlife rehab is all cute ‘n cuddly, warm ‘n fuzzy. I’m tired of that assumption, particularly this time of year, when so many of our intakes are untreatable. So in this update, you get a better insight into what wildlife rehab is really like.

We’ll start off with a warm ‘n fuzzy: the cat-attacked flying squirrel who’s overwintering in rehab is doing quite well and should be releasable come spring. Meanwhile, he likes tasty greens such as broccoli, among other nutrient-rich delicacies he’s offered nightly. (Flyers are nocturnal.)

Earlier this month, I got a call about a dog-attacked screech owl. Since the caller was only a couple of miles from me, I broke my “meet me halfway” rule and went to fetch the screech myself. His eye was pretty messed up, and I thought it was a lost cause.

However, when I got him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital, vets Richie Hatcher and Peggy Hobby were cautiously optimistic that his eye could be saved. Since it was Peggy’s day in surgery, she carefully rinsed the eye…

…and removed the surrounding feathers…

Here Peggy holds the screech after she’s finished working on him. We knew his chances were 50-50 at best, given the shock and trauma, but it was worth a try. Unfortunately, he died during the night.

A few days later, I got a call about a downed red tailed hawk in Houston County.  The caller met me halfway with the bird, and she was truly trashed.

Older left leg and wing wounds were full of maggots, as was a fresher wound under the right wing. Both wings were broken, open fractures. Vet Richie Hatcher agreed immediately that the kindest thing we could do for her was to euthanize, which we did. Here you see a shot of her leg, to give you an idea of what the rest of her body looked like.

Two days later, a downed red shoulder hawk came in.

And then last week, things began to look up somewhat. This gorgeous mature female red tail came in, and vet Peggy Hobby and I could find no signs of injury. She was alert, aggressive, flared her wings beautifully…

…so we decided she was recovering from a mild concussion and decided to give her a few days. Look at those gorgeous feathers!

So…I tried yesterday to release her, and it was no go. Oh, she nailed my wrist, drawing blood through the glove, then she tried to nail the other palm but only bruised it, and then she bit me. All this would have been fine had a release followed, but she proved unable to fly. Below is a shot of the failed release attempt.

*sigh* Called Smalley’s and asked if they could X-ray to see what we missed. What we missed was a lead pellet that had broken the bone. See that shiny ball in the X-ray? Lead pellet. She’d been down long enough before coming to LWR that the entry wound had healed, and because the pellet was lodged in the bone, we couldn’t feel it or the healing break. She’ll now be with me for a month or so, since we figure the break is about 2-3 weeks old.  Raptors are federally protected birds, so this gunshot bird has been reported to the U.S. Fish & Wildlife’s Law Enforcement division.

Two days after Miss Hawk-from-hell came in, I received a crow from another rehab facility some 200 miles away. She was supposedly a nonreleasable bird, so I was getting her as a transfer for an educational bird. I wanted my vets to sign off on this, so I took her to Smalley’s for an exam, where vet Jim Hobby X-rayed the supposedly useless wing and found that it was indeed pretty badly broken, had already healed…and contained lead flecks (shiny dots on X-ray). Yep, another report to the feds…

I called the transferring facility to make sure I didn’t duplicate their report, only to discover that they hadn’t reported it because “we never do X-rays.” They’d had the bird over a month and based their assessment of nonreleasable on nothing more than a cursory physical exam. Don’t even get me started on that, okay? Needless to say, I was not a happy camper, and it’s taking all my restraint not to name and shame the facility.

And then a week later, the crow, who I was calling Nevermore, “picked the lock” on her pen door and released herself from what has previously been an escape-proof pen. (NEVER underestimate the intelligence and resourcefulness of a crow!) I don’t mean she opened the door and ran around or fluttered helplessly. Noooo, she FLEW AWAY. I watched her fly back and forth between a pine tree in my front yard and a pecan tree in my back yard for a while, just grinning. It wasn’t graceful flight, but it was powerful and coordinated. And the next morning, a flock of crows started raising an unholy racket first thing, and when I went out to check, they and Nevermore were gone. That makes me happy. Crows are clannish, and she’ll hang around the fringes of the group for a while before being fully accepted, but the fact that they let her fly away with them is an excellent sign that she’ll eventually be accepted into the group.  Nonreleasable, my arse!

Two days after Nevermore came in, yet another red tail showed up with a broken wing. This was another female, but a first-year bird this time.

Contrast this face with the face shot of the mature female above—there’s just that much difference in their personalities, too. This first-year bird is a more typical laid-back red tail.

Vet Shelley Baumann (yep, I pretty much made the rounds of the vets at Smalley’s this month!) X-rayed the wing and found a clean, fresh break…

…so we wrapped her wing and will be checking her progress weekly.

Just a reminder—2012 LWR calendars are available from CafePress: http://www.cafepress.com/LaurensWildlifeRescue. These are print-on-demand, meaning that CafePress prints them as you order them. They’re $19.99, which I realize is pricey for a calendar, but only $5 of that actually benefits LWR; the rest goes to CafePress. I have to say that I’m a bit disappointed that so far only two calendars have been ordered.  Folks talk big about how they support our efforts, but apparently it’s mostly talk, since only one order for two calendars has been placed. These are not stock photos; they’re 12 full-color photos of wildlife I’ve actually had in rehab over the past few years.  These are all critters who benefitted first-hand from the efforts of Laurens Wildlife Rescue. As I’ve reminded you often enough, it’s not cheap to rehab our native wildlife, and “admiration and respect” don’t fill furry bellies or feathered crops.

Have a good Thanksgiving, and remember that there will also be only one update in December.

(cue Monty Python theme music)… No, really, LWR is trying something new—we’re offering a 2012 calendar for sale through Café Press, with 12 full-color photos of some of our rehabs. All proceeds over the Café Press printing costs and fees will help fund our rehab efforts next year, so stock up on these calendars as Christmas gifts, stocking stuffers, etc. Here’s the direct link to the calendar page: http://www.cafepress.com/LaurensWildlifeRescue .

In rehab news, the runt possum finally grew enough for me to feel comfortable releasing her.  All six possums are now enjoying the freedom they were meant to have.

This barred owl from Houston County, however, wasn’t as lucky. He came in with a leg injury. From just a physical exam, I couldn’t tell if it was broken or dislocated, and neither could vet Peggy Hobby when I took him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital.

When we x-rayed, though, the break was quite obvious, and too close to the joint to be stabilized, so we had to euthanize.  (X-ray photo courtesy of Smalley’s Animal Hospital)

Sadly, this great blue heron from Bulloch County had an infected open fracture on his right wing and was so malnourished he could barely stand, so vet Shelley Baumann at Smalley’s euthanized him.

And rounding out the sad news (there IS happy news; keep reading!), this poor American coot from here in Laurens County apparently clipped someone’s side-view mirror.

Both legs were broken at approximately the same place, both open fractures. Again, there was nothing to be done but to end his suffering.

On a happier note, this cat-attacked flying squirrel from Coffee County suffered only a small abrasion to his head and apparently some minor nerve damage; he lists to the left. 

This may or may not resolve itself over time—we’ll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, the sweet little fellow is making himself at home in a smallish cage where he has room to climb and play but not enough room for his balance issues to cause further injury.

He’s a cutie and may overwinter with me, depending on how quickly/whether his list to the left clears up.

And the pièce de résistance for this update is this adorable pied grebe—first time I’ve had one in rehab!

They’re tiny little waterfowl with fairly docile demeanors.  Look at those funky feet!

This fellow was found by the side of the road in Dodge County and spent several days happily tanking up on fish in my spare tub before being released on a small pond at the River Bend Wildlife Management Area.  Thanks to state wildlife biologist Chris Baumann for suggesting the safe release site. Our little grebe was delighted to be free: he swam completely across the pond, ruffled his feathers vigorously and began preening energetically.

And finally, just FYI: the website will be updated just once per month for November and December.

Not at the pace of “baby season,” but they’re still trickling in! 

The hummer from the last update was successfully released and led me & my niece Caitlan on another merry chase, this one outside, as we attempted to snap a few photos of his release.  Here’s the best of those shots.

And yet another hummer came in, with no apparent injuries but unable to fly. For at least two weeks before I got him, he’d had an exclusively commercial nectar diet, which is fine for free-flying hummers with access to other food sources but not for a captive bird.

I started him on a nutritionally balanced formula immediately, and he seemed very alert and active. Unfortunately, the extended period of crap diet took its toll and he succumbed to what appeared to be a heart attack just three days after intake.

Five of six possums are now on their own; I held the runt back to see if she’ll grow any larger. I suspect not, but I’m reluctant to release her until she’s at least had a chance to get a little bigger. Weight isn’t an issue; she’s actually quite fat for a possum. She’s just not quite long enough for release yet. (Weight factors into a release decision, as does the actual nose-to-butt, tail not included, length of the possum.)

LWR also received this lovely pigeon recently. He’s not tame but he’s not a wild bird. This color pattern isn’t seen in wild populations; as best I can determine he’s an American Roller breed, color pattern grizzled. Unfortunately, he’s not banded, so I can’t reunite him with the breeder who released him, most likely at a wedding. That’s a stupid practice that does nothing but cater to the vanity of the newlyweds; the white/whitish homing (or racing) pigeons released may or may not make it back home.  I have a very low opinion of the breeders who engage in this practice and in racing their birds, as I’ve only dealt with one who cared enough to retrieve his bird when it didn’t make it home. See, homing/racing pigeons fly until they literally drop from exhaustion, and then they eat voraciously to rebuild their strength. HOWEVER…they’ve often been fed exclusively commercial pigeon diets and have no idea how to forage in the wild, so they end up starving to death. And anyone who releases these birds for weddings and doesn’t have them banded beforehand obviously doesn’t care enough about them to worry whether they live or die.  This is irresponsible and reprehensible, in my admittedly biased opinion.

This young adult flying squirrel was attacked by a dog and while nothing felt broken, he didn’t make it through the night for me to have x-rays done to confirm. I suspect there was nerve damage and possibly broken ribs that punctured a lung, as he was “crackling” when he breathed. You have no idea how I hated to lose this little fellow. I adore flying squirrels but see relatively few in rehab. They’re nocturnal, so most people don’t even realize they exist until they encounter one of the sweet little rascals, and then they’re often not sure what they have. Sometime when the update is shorter, I’ll have to tell you about the first flyer I rehabbed, who overwintered with me.

We also had a first-year female Cooper’s hawk come in after colliding with a plate-glass shop window in town. Look at the paranoid expression on her face!  Actually, Coops are pretty psychotic hawks, anyway, but this young lady also had a concussion and the accompanying massive headache. She was lucky that nothing was broken, however, so after a few days of R&R at the LWR bed and breakfast for raptors, she was good to go.

She was quite a happy camper, although the chickadees and titmice where I released her were less than thrilled. A Coop’s primary diet is songbirds, so you can understand their displeasure, but I wasn’t releasing her back in town to collide with another plate-glass window!

I leave you with another couple of shots of the released Coop:

…which is not unusual. Our unofficial four seasons are Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. Yesterday marked the entry into Still Summer!

The fall slowdown does appear to be in effect now, though, with only 9 intakes since the Labor Day update. These are the newest squirrels; all but two of the older babies have been released. (Yes, those are pecan crumbs. Pecans are a treat, the nutritional equivalent of candy, for squirrels, who are VERY messy eaters!)

The possums continue to grow apace and should be ready for release in the next few weeks.

Aside from a cat–attacked juvenile mourning dove who had to be euthanized due to an open fracture under his left wing and a house finch with advanced “finch eye” conjunctivitis (also euthanized; he was already near-blind), the only bird we’ve received has been this young adult hummer, who should be making the migration now but got caught and injured in storms earlier this week. We initially thought his left wing might be broken, but yesterday morning and this afternoon he got out while I was freshening his feeder and led me a merry chase. He’s still favoring that wing a little when he’s at rest, but he seems perfectly capable of flight, so I’ll give him another day or two of rest and then release him to continue his migration to Central America for the winter.

I recently received an email from someone who “admired” my rehab efforts but expressed “concern” at my apparent dislike for humanity. I tried to reply to the email but it kept bouncing back as an invalid address, so I’d like to post my reply here for everyone to read:

Try getting in a bird covered with food and feces that the finder has been taking "real good care of" for a month, feeding it nothing but cat food and not cleaning it at all, knowing it's illegal to have the bird and waiting until the bird's sibling is dying before attempting to seek help. Make the decision to put down a young owl because someone illegally raised it in captivity, put improper leg restraints on it, and broke both its legs before dumping it in the woods for a hunter to stumble across. Try explaining to the man who just brought you a baby fox—a rabies-prone species—that he & his family, which includes pre-school children, now need to be vaccinated for possible rabies exposure because he kept the fox in the house like a pet for three weeks, while he insists that's not necessary; he *just knows* the fox doesn't have rabies. Then see how much you like people. You'll find that most rehabbers feel the same way, eventually. We see too much of the idiocy in our species. We're spending massive amounts of time, energy and money—mostly our own—to try and mitigate the negative impact people have on wildlife, and the people who bring us animals "respect and admire" us but don't usually help fund us, and all too often, we get the animals after these folks have all but killed them, claiming to be animal lovers in the process.  And then there are the ones who refuse—usually rudely—to meet us halfway, since they insist we're state employees and their tax dollars pay our salaries. Salary?? We *pay* for the privilege of working with wildlife; we aren't state or federal employees and get no funding from the state or feds! I make myself available 24/7/365 for the sake of the animals, not for any love of mankind. I've always been misanthropic; wildlife rehab has just heightened that tendency. That said, I'm not rude to the public and I don't name names on the website, no matter how tempted I am in both instances.

And to balance out that negative assessment, let me say that there are those people who do the right thing with no delays. For about every three people who fit the above description, there is one person who helps me retain my miniscule faith in humanity—who, upon finding a bird or animal in need of rehab, immediately sets about seeking that help; who is willing to meet me halfway; and who donates, even if it’s a small amount, toward the care of the animal they’ve brought me. For instance, the person who brought me the hummer found him grounded after morning storms, called around to see who to contact to help him, and got him to me as soon as possible. In addition to agreeing with no hesitation to meet me halfway, this person also made a donation to LWR, assisting in the rehabilitation of Georgia’s native wildlife. Because of this person’s efforts, the hummer was safe from predators and had proper food while he recovered, and the donation will help buy more hummer diet for next year, or fill up the gas tank so I can pick up the next critter needing rehab. Every little donation helps in some way; don’t ever think your donation is too small. I and every other rehabber on the planet need all the financial assistance we can get to continue our efforts to compensate for human encroachment on wildlife habitat, with all its disastrous results.

…to bring you a more timely update.

The scruffy Carolina wrens from the August update were released; the possums and squirrels have a while yet before they’re releasable.

Here are four of the six possums. They’ve reached that stage that they’re not always clumped together like this, so I lucked up getting these four in one shot!

Here are three of the squirrels in various stages of repose. Gotta admire the wee one on the left—what a sleeping position!

I’m still a bit shell-shocked from this weekend, when I had three raptors come in in two days, and all three had injuries requiring euthanasia. A first-year Cooper’s hawk had an open wing fracture with a good inch and a half of bone exposed. An adult great horned owl had an open wing fracture and a shattered leg. A sharp-shinned hawk had an open leg fracture—no, that’s not even accurate in his case; the foot was all but ripped off and dangling by the skin. NOT a pleasant weekend…

And then one of the people who brought the Coop actually wanted to argue with me as to the need for euthanasia. People, first off, I’m trained in what I do. I usually know when an animal’s injuries require euthanasia; when I’m not sure, a vet exam and x-rays will help determine the decision. Second, an open wing fracture is always grounds for euthanasia; to attempt to treat it would prolong the bird’s suffering, ultimately resulting in death, anyway. If it’s within my power to spare an animal even an hour of pain and suffering, I’ll do it. And finally, I do not make the decision to euthanize lightly. It comes down to quality versus quantity of life.  I don’t play the “I did everything humanly possible and spared no expense” game with either my domestics or the wildlife under my care. That’s an ego trip, and I don’t have an ego where these animals are concerned. I do what’s best for them, period. That’s the whole point, isn’t it??

Okay, off my soapbox. Let’s end on a positive note:  the gorgeous little bluebird was released and is loving her newfound freedom. At left and below are some photos of the little beauty.

Hmmm...is that a tasty worm I see?

More food?

I do wish the paparazzi would go away...

This one, despite being a bit of a blue blur, is still one of my favorites. She took off just as I snapped the photo, and I just love the way it looks!

Sorry for the delay in getting out an update; the paying job is keeping me busy, busy…as in 4 hours’ sleep a night is a good night… ANYway, on to the critters; you’re not here to hear about how I pay the bills!

The barn swallow was released shortly after the last update. She didn’t look back; barn swallows seldom hang around after they’re released.

We’re having a massive overlap of fur and feathers at the moment, as I have late birds and early squirrels and clueless possums. I debated posting photos of the squirrels, as some of my new friends from the NYT Hawkcam chat might feel conflicted at the cuteness of these future candidates for hawk fodder.  Yes, folks, I’m a realist—squirrels are prey animals. I rehab them; hawks and owls eat them. It’s called the food chain…

The possums came in on July 28, just as their eyes were beginning to open.

This photo was taken on August 12. What a difference two weeks makes, huh?!

I also had a mocker with a ruptured air sac come in. The technical term for this is subcutaneous emphysema. Birds, in addition to having hollow bones, have air sacs throughout their bodies; it’s this combination that allows them to fly.  Various types of trauma, ranging from a hard fall from the nest to being attacked by a cat, can cause one or more air sacs to rupture. The air then migrates to the surface of the skin and looks like a huge blister.

If they’re not in awkward locations, they can be left alone and the air will gradually be re-absorbed. In this bird’s case, the ruptured air sac was causing his leg to splay out to the side, so I drained it. Unfortunately he died several days later from other issues. Ruptured air sacs are rarely fatal unless they migrate near the throat and cause choking.

These scruffy looking Carolina wrens are little miracle birds. They travelled from Maryland to Georgia, a good 18 hour trip, with no food or water. Their nest was in the driver’s vehicle and he didn’t realize it until he reached Georgia. (This is not uncommon for Carolina wrens, as they nest in odd places: boat motors, tractor tires, motorcycle helmets, pants pockets…) Three of the five nestlings had died by the time he found them; these two looked very iffy. I really didn’t think they’d make it, to be honest, but I went through the necessary procedure to rehydrate them and get some food into them, hoped for the best and expected the worst.

Here they are three days later—still scruffy looking but alive!  Scruffy and alive ain’t a bad combo, folks!

For those of you enamored of the wood duck, she has now been released. Yes, as her feathers came in completely, we determined she was female! At right and are photos of her prior to and at her release.

July 17…

July 22…

Another July 22…

And another…she was so darn cute that day! Notice the difference in her wing feathers from July 17.

July 29…

And at left and below we have her release photos, from August 12. After carefully checking out the water, she waded in and swam around for a while before soaring over the pond and circling down to land on the opposite side but still in the water. See how her wings now cross over her back? That’s the determining factor in releasing wood ducks.

Thanks to Shelley and Chris Baumann for allowing me to use their pond as a release site. For those of you who may not remember, Shelley is one of the wonderful vets at Smalley’s Animal Hospital; her husband Chris is a wildlife biologist with Georgia DNR.

Of course, those of you who have followed this blog for a while know that I absolutely adore Eastern bluebirds, and this gorgeous little lady came in August 4. She was found huddled against the curb in the parking lot of a local business. How she got there is anyone’s guess, as nowhere in that area is known as bluebird habitat.

She was just days away from fledging and should have still been in the nest, so my best guess is some predator killed her sibs and she somehow escaped. She’s adjusted well to rehab, though, and is even beginning to attempt—and sometimes succeed at—eating mealworms on her own. Mealies aren’t a complete source of nutrition, but they’re commonly used in rehab to coax birds to self-feed, as they’re very slow and easy for beginning eaters to catch.

How do I know she’s female? Look at her flight feathers, or primaries. They’re a dusky blue. Males have much more vivid primaries—almost a cobalt blue. Of course, she’ll lose the baby spots as she matures and goes through her first molt, but the dusky, muted blue will always serve as the indicator that she’s female.

Everything bluebirds do is just precious to me; can you tell? Here she looks like she’s planning to audition as a contortionist for Cirque de Soleil, but she’s actually preening after starting her bath. She hopped in the water, got a little damp, preened a bit and then decided she needed a full bath, below. She's out of her pen for the bath; it's less messy that way!

And that’s a good way to wrap up this update. By the way, for those of you on Facebook, Laurens Wildlife Rescue now has a Facebook page. I generally post the photos from these updates there within a day or two of the update. They’re larger and clearer on Facebook, for those who like to see more detail!

Many factors intervened to postpone the normal first-of-the month update, primarily the fact that I was swamped with editing, and editing pays the bills, so…hmm…update the website or pay the bills? I’ll take pay the bills for this month, Alex…

While I have a short sort of half-lull at the moment, though, I’m getting a quick update out there for your reading and viewing pleasure! To keep this overdue update under novel-length, I’ve picked a few of the cuter intakes to focus on; for this update we’ll avoid the less-pleasant situations we’ve had to deal with in the past month, other than to let everyone know that the kingbird who was the subject of a dedicated rant didn’t make it. The persistent diarrhea, combined with the crappy diet she’d been fed during the crucial formative stages of her little life, was just too much for her system to handle. We wormed her; we put her on meds; we tried everything possible. She was frustrated because the flight instinct was there but the ability was not thanks to that improperly healed wing. She was also losing weight rapidly even though she was being fed every 30-45 minutes for 14 hours a day. It became a quality of life issue, and when there’s nothing else I can do for my rehabs, I can give them a peaceful death.  And yes, I’m still furious that this was necessary, as had the bird been with a qualified, licensed rehabber from the get-go, she might have had a chance at release.

The blue jay from the last regular update was released, as were all his flight pen companions. Here’s a shot of him shortly after release. He no longer perches on my finger; that’s a habit that fades a few days after release from the flight pen.

Same fellow, preening near dark. He no longer comes down for supplemental feedings; only one jay still does, in fact.

I have so many recent releases of different species dropping by for handouts, however, that today I gave up trying to make sure I named off all species as I called them down for supplemental feedings. I now just yell for “various and sundry birdie-byes”. It works…trust me; it works. It’s like a scene from Hitchcock’s “The Birds.”

This American goldfinch is one of the recent releases. She’s a chatty, greedy young lady who will demand more even while she has food running out her beak!  Finches are known for gorging themselves; it’s something we have to monitor closely in rehab.

I think somebody stole my downy little wood duckling while I wasn’t looking and replaced him with this gorgeous growing duck! Look how his tail and wing feathers have changed between the photo at right and the one below, taken a little over two weeks apart. He’s rapidly approaching release size.

This tiny Eastern cottontail came in July 8. See the patches in her fur where she’d been stung by fire ants? As the scabs dropped off, they took fur with them. Even before her eyes opened, she’d lunge blindly toward the front of her carrier for her feedings…

…and two days ago, her little eyes opened, so now she lunges with clear direction and same purpose: FOOD! She’s a very sweet, calm little rabbit, unlike many we see in rehab settings.

Finally, on July 2 we received this adorable little barn swallow. Barn swallows are another of my favorite avian species; they’re just so darn cute and cheerful!

Same baby July 7…

…and both of these shots were taken July 14, just two days ago. Barn swallows are neat little birds; as adults, they eat on the wing. In other words, unlike a jay or a wren, who will snag an insect and sit somewhere to devour it, a swallow snags and eats its insects in flight. They’re also brave little rascals who show very little fear of humans. Barn swallows are chatty, social birds and are found pretty much all over the world with very little variation in color or song. It’s impossible not to smile at the sight and sound of a barn swallow, so I’ve been doing a LOT of smiling lately!