​Late in the week, a fledgling song sparrow was cat-attacked after his initial finders did everything right by monitoring him and leaving him alone in their yard. The poor baby wandered into their neighbor’s yard, however, and the neighbor had a free-roaming outdoor cat. So the song sparrow is now on meds at LWR, and thanks to Virginia colleague Maureen Eiger for helping me ID the little cutie, as it’s not a species I’ve previously seen in rehab. Little brown jobs can be difficult to ID; I’ve threatened to just start listing them as LBJs on my annual reports, but like the Elephant’s Child, my ‘satiable curiosity gets the better of me and I spend hours poring over nestling and fledgling ID charts, comparing “baby” pix and videos and calling colleagues who enjoy a good bird mystery as much as I do. Song sparrows can be especially difficult to ID because it seems there’s wide variation in the appearance of the young. Despite being on meds, he’s not as perky today as he has been the past couple of days, so…fingers crossed…

​Earlier in the week a second-year broad-winged hawk came in with an open left wrist fracture. I don’t see broadies often, so I hated that there was nothing I could do for the poor bird but end his suffering.

​Yesterday another mocker came in, a late nestling—too young to be out of the nest, as his wing feathers are still mostly encased in keratin. He was nearly a dog-attack victim. He’s in with the older mocker.

​A juvenile Cooper’s hawk also came in yesterday, with a wing fracture. En route to LWR, the Coop, true to the species’ psychotic nature, decided to rip open the swollen flesh around the fracture, so it was oozing copious amounts of blood upon his arrival. It took forever to get the bleeding under control, even using styptic powder, and he still died overnight, probably from a combination of shock and blood loss.

​In better news, LWR had three releases this week: the great horned owl, the barred owl and the juvie red tail.
The great horned owl wasted no time skedaddling. While I saw the tree he landed in some distance away, when I got about halfway to it for a post-release photo, he headed even deeper into the woods—no paparazzi, thanks!

​The barred owl flew low and landed on the ground, but when I headed in his direction to see if I needed to recapture him, he took off into the trees and kept flying farther away as I tried to get a post-release photo of him.

​The red tail shot out of the box and circled behind me—and I didn’t press the record button hard enough and missed gorgeous footage. He was considerate enough to remain perched for some post-release photos, though.

​The oldest wood duck is good to go; the younger three aren’t far behind. I figure another 7-10 days and they should all be on their merry way. They weren’t as cooperative with the “cute” stuff for a video this week—just peeping and sipping water.

The killdeer remains inside; I don’t want him doing something stupid before he’s able to fly well. He’s also too spastic for photos; just changing his paper and giving him food and water nearly stresses the poor bird to death.
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The MIKIs are in the raptor flight as of yesterday and flying pretty well; their landings, however, are still just downright ugly. It’s a work in progress…

​The second-year red tail is in the mini-pen and looking good. He offered an impressive threat display when I fed him this morning. Red tails are so gorgeous!

​No true slowdown in sight yet, if last week is any indication, with six new intakes.
 
Early in the week, a hit-by-car barred owl came in. Nothing is broken; he just had a concussion and some lingering head trauma but should be releasable soon.

​Another juvenile MIKI came in, again transferred from Bubba & Friends. This one’s about the same age as the earlier transfer from Bubba & Friends.  Sending the MIKIs to LWR puts them a little closer to their final winter destination in Central America. All three are ready for the flight pen, as soon as the red tail is out.

​Speaking of which, yesterday FWS brought another red tail, this one about a second year bird—already getting those signature red tail feathers. He’s a bit on the thin side but alert. No signs of frounce but capillaria is always a possibility, so he’s being treated for that.

​And as y’all may have noticed, the MIKIs are back inside. Their brief foray into the mini-pen ended when I realized the great horned owl from last week’s update needed to be outside first. He’s slated for release ASAP, as he’s doing quite well and moving about in the mini-pen will keep his muscle tone up.

​Another new intake was a juvenile hummer, probably a ruby-throat and most likely female. She was kept for nearly a week before the initial rescuer took her to a neighbor who had numerous hummer feeders in her yard. The neighbor contacted LWR and shortly afterward, the hummer was transported here. It was hard on intake to tell what might have been scabs and what was dried, sticky nectar, as you can see in her photos. Had the initial finder sought help earlier, there might have been a chance to repair the injury; as it is, the wing has healed at an awkward angle that looks as if it will preclude flight. I’m giving her some time to be sure, but odds are she’ll require euthanasia.

​A late-nestling mocker was found in the road with no nest in sight and the finder called LWR after searching for a nest until dark, with no luck. Since the finder would’ve had to travel unfamiliar back roads in the dark to bring the bird that night, I suggested she bed the bird down for the night and gave her feeding instructions for the next day, until she could get the wee one to LWR. Happily, she followed my instructions to the letter and a sassy, noisy, well-fed mocker arrived the next day.

​A Laurens County deputy brought an adult MIKI found in a local fast-food joint’s parking lot yesterday. Sadly, he had multiple injuries, one of which required euthanasia. His right wing was dinged at the wrist; his left leg was broken mid-bone; his chest had an open wound. The fatal injury, however, was the broken left wing—the fracture was right in the joint. That, as y’all know by now, cannot be fixed, especially in an aerial insectivore that absolutely must have 100% use of both wings. More than likely he was hit by car while in pursuit of an insect.

​The juvie red tail in the raptor flight is flying beautifully; he just needs to pass his live prey test and he’s good to go.

 The adult killdeer attempts escape with every paper change and food/water freshening, despite the fact that he has almost no primaries on one wing. He’s off meds for his exposure to cat saliva and wants his freedom badly. They’re such stressy birds, even as adults, that I’m actually considering sticking him in the songbird flight to see how well he can fly. If he shows me he can fly well enough, we may release ASAP, to avoid any further stress on the poor fellow.
 
​The juvie barnie would very much like to join the killdeer in escape; she’s not a happy camper either. I’ve put out word she’s nonreleasable and am attempting to place her as an ed bird.
 
No photos of either of these two this week; not worth the fight to get a decent shot while deflecting escape attempts.
 
The wood ducks continue to grow rapidly; the older one is actually good to go but I don’t want to release him alone, so he’s stuck at LWR till the younger three are also ready for release—which won’t be long, judging by the feather development on their wings! (Sorry about the white balance; the camera decided to screw it up in the midst of filming...)

​And look who visited this week! Early in the week both juvie black vultures showed together up for a day or two, then they disappeared again, and yesterday only one of the sibs showed up. As you can clearly see from the poop on his back, he’s roosting at night with other vultures. I seldom get to do soft releases with raptors since I can’t very well release them in my yard along with the songbirds, so I’m enjoying this to the max. (First photo is overprocessed; I used HDR to pull the vultures out of the shadow in the original phone camera image. That's why I don't use HDR too often...)

July 2019 marked LWR’s heaviest ever intakes for that month, so hopefully August will see a slowdown, with baby season winding down. We shall see…

I was rather proud of myself for getting last Sunday’s update done early in the day, despite the back issues (still twingy but not excruciating; thanks for asking). HAH. Within half an hour of posting it, LWR received notice of three birds en route from two different locations…

A volunteer transporter delivered two of the birds, a first-year red tail and an adult great horned owl.
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There was nothing to be done for the red tail, who’d been crammed into a box much too small for a bird his size that was then lavishly slathered with packing tape, as if the poor bird were some sort of vicious monster. His near-wrist fracture apparently had been an open one and maggots had eaten all the flesh, tendons and ligaments from the bird’s right wing. He was humanely euthanized.

The great horned also came via the volunteer transporter—slightly bigger box but still taped out the wazoo. Really y’all, for future reference—in case y’all ever need to know this—a cardboard box with the flaps closed and maybe a couple of strips of tape to hold them closed if the bird gets antsy, and you’re good to go. Taping every exposed surface of the box is massive overkill!
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At any rate, aside from the area around his cere being a bit bloody, the owl was fine; he now awaits his turn in the raptor flight.

​Shortly after these two arrived, a family brought an approximately three-month-old barn owl with a wing injury. We have a fair approximation of age because the father knew the nest was in his deer stand in May and had been checking it periodically to monitor the progress of the babies. This bird is old enough to be on its own but the wing felt dislocated in the elbow to me. Sure enough, X-rays at Smalley’s confirmed a dislocation, but it had already started healing in that position. Vet Jim Hobby and I agreed it was worth trying to pop the bone back into place, and so we gassed down the barnie and Jim attempted to manipulate the bones back into proper alignment. It wasn’t happenin’, however, and Jim was afraid he’d end up breaking the bones if he kept at it. So this young barnie, full of piss and vinegar, is a nonreleasable bird and I’ve already put out overtures to see if any in-state educational facilities would be interested in her.

​Tuesday, a brown thrasher nestling fell from its nest at a local daycare. One of the workers brought it to LWR, where an intake exam revealed its right leg was broken at the hip. Even though I know hip fractures can’t be fixed, I gave the poor baby 24 hours’ observation to make sure the lack of neural response wasn’t just from swelling from the injury before making the call to euthanize.

That same day, a hatchling woodpecker, probably red-belly, came in with a pretty nasty belly bruise from his fall from the nest. I was hopeful but not optimistic that there was no internal bleeding, as it wasn’t hard and swollen…yet…but sadly, he died the next morning. Belly bruises on a bird that young almost always indicate internal bleeding.

​Wednesday morning a barred owl with a broken wing arrived at LWR. I was pretty sure the fracture was fatal but took him in for X-rays anyway. The x-rays confirmed the shoulder was trashed beyond repair and he was humanely euthanized.

​That evening, an adult killdeer arrived, most likely a cat-attack victim. His finder said they’d had a stray cat show up on their property recently. He’s missing tail feathers and most of the primaries on his left wing but is on antibiotics and doing well. 

​All four red shoulders were released, finally for three of them; the fourth was the bird who’d come in with frounce and spent his last few days at LWR in the raptor flight with the other three birds. I managed short videos of two of the releases—the two who sat on the ground for a few minutes, threat-displaying, before flying away. The other two took off like greased lightning. Hey, vids of two outta four ain’t bad…

​The remaining red tail is now in the raptor flight; his buddy in the mini-pen self-released when I went in to replace their water late in the week. I saw where he landed and took both a net and camera, so if I couldn’t recapture him—which I knew was unlikely—I could at least get a few shots of him after his self-release.

​The ducks continue to grow; the oldest of the four has maybe another week or two before he’s releasable.

​With the remaining red tail in the raptor flight, the MIKIs are now in the mini-pen. They’re still not real sure they like it, but whether they realize it or not, we’re working against a migration deadline with them, so as soon as the red tail is flying well and passes the live prey test, he’s outta here so the MIKIs can get fully migration-ready in the raptor flight. These two tickle me to death with their polar opposite attitudes toward food. The younger bird, who’s been at LWR since he was a downy handful, is like, “Oh, eating is so overrated; don’t you think? I ate yesterday, so I’m not really sure I want anything today.” The older one, the transfer from Bubba & Friends, is like, “Ooooh, grub! Praise the Lord and pass the mouse bits!”

More on that question later…

“Oh, we’re all in this together because we love animals so much.” This was the gist of a statement made to me Monday when a person brought a barred owl they’d had since Saturday.  Said person works as an educator, claims to have an “exhibition” permit, and admitted to “unofficial” rehab. Would you like me to translate all that into what a rehabber hears in these words? This individual thinks because they are in education and have an exhibition permit FOR ONE ANIMAL, that gives them free rein to rehab illegally, although what little conscience they have left does remind them that “unofficial” and illegal are synonymous here—if you don’t have state and (for birds) federal permits, YOU ARE BREAKING THE LAW by possessing wildlife, even if you claim it’s for rehab.

This ain’t rocket science, folks. If you want to rehab, study for the exam. Take the exam. Pass the exam. Pass the site inspection. Get your hands-on experience for birds by apprenticing under someone with current state and federal permits. That’s it in a nutshell. It can all be done in under a year if you’re motivated enough, and if you truly “love animals” enough to want the best possible training to care for them properly.

I submit to you that anyone who “loves animals” will swallow their pride and DO THE RIGHT THING for that animal by seeking properly permitted individuals to assess, treat and—if need be—rehab the animal. Anything else is just ego looking to be stroked by having all their friends coo over how “wonderful” they are when they post “cute” pictures all over social media of them and their illegally held wildlife.

The barred owl that led to this rant had a broken right leg, right at the hip. This is not a fixable fracture, so the bird required euthanasia. For TWO DAYS it sat in an unlined box, sprawled on that injured side with no cushioning, no support. TWO DAYS of pain that could’ve been ended much sooner had this person not decided their “unofficial” rehab gave them the skills (which they obviously DO NOT POSSESS in reality) to attempt treatment.
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And then they have the gall to imply “we’re all in this together because we love animals”? Oh, don’t even go there with me. Just don’t. 

And while I’m ranting, lemme tell y’all about this gem of a call: woman calls, leaves a message that her children have found a bird in the yard and she’s willing to bring it. Now, keep in mind my outgoing voicemail message CLEARLY states this may entail a one-way trip of up to two hours and if the caller isn’t willing to do this, to hang up now. I call back; woman says bird is on its side with some kind of “pink bubble gum” looking stuff coming out. My immediate thought is more than likely a cat-attacked bird whose internal organs are ripped out. I text her the address; five minutes later she calls back and says she thought I was closer (from her location, it’s about a 25-minute drive, people…) and could just I tell her how to care for the bird? After a moment of shocked silence, I explained that she’d just said it was injured so no, I could NOT tell her how to care for a bird with injuries I’d not even seen, and further, it was a violation of the terms of my permits to give that sort of care advice to the public. And she hung up on me.

Way to go, woman—what a sterling example to set for your children: Mama’s too damn sorry to drive for 25 minutes to get help for an injured bird; so we’ll sit here and watch it die instead, probably whining the whole time about how “mean” that rehabber was—and I’m willing to bet she posted all over social media about what a “good” person SHE was for trying to “help” this bird. Yeah, right…
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Two Carolina wrens survived the deaths of one of their parents and two sibs; the finder said the parent was dead outside the nest and two babies were dead inside the nest. Thus far, these two are doing well, given the stress they’ve experienced.

​When this mockingbird nestling was found in a driveway with no nest in sight, the finder attempted to move the baby to a safer location in hopes the parents would hear its cries. When that didn’t work, she brought him to LWR, where he struggled to overcome one setback after another. He put up a good fight but ultimately lost his battle, poor baby.

​And four more Carolina wrens came in after the finder noticed that the parents hadn’t been to the nest for over 12 hours and the babies were getting increasingly vocal as their hunger levels ratcheted upward. She did an excellent job of following my care instructions until I was done at the doctor’s office with my back so she could get them to LWR. They were close enough in age to be placed with the other two, so now there are six little gaping beaks at every feeding.

​Last weekend, colleague Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends had a young Mississippi kite come in, slightly older than the MIKI currently at LWR. This MIKI was rail thin and on shaky ground, so Steve called to see if I’d place him with my MIKI once he had him stabilized enough to be transferred. Since LWR is about 100 miles south of Bubba & Friends, that’s 100 miles the bird won’t have to travel when migration starts, and my MIKI needed a buddy, so…he arrived Thursday and promptly settled right in.

​Late Friday a young red shoulder came in from Animal Control in a neighboring county. The volunteer transporters who brought him said the AC claimed he had a broken leg. An intake exam revealed no fractures anywhere, just a rail-thin bird with the beginnings of frounce. I started treatment immediately and by Saturday morning he was improved enough to inhale a small mouse. 

​The red shoulder releases were delayed by my back issues, so the red tails are also still in the mini-pen. The brown thrasher went into the songbird flight long enough for me to be sure he was flying well and eating enough to be okay on his own and was subsequently released—no photos, since I open the “escape hatch” so songbirds can self-release as they feel confident enough to leave, and I wasn’t up to the quick movements required to get photos in the songbird flight.

​The wood ducklings continue to thrive. The oldest, who was an “only” for so long, is maturing rapidly and doesn’t have long before he’s ready for release. 

​The vultures visited twice this week, once as a team and once individually, so that was a pleasant surprise. I miss those rascals!

​And that brings us full-circle to the question that began this week’s update: Who rehabs the rehabber? The answer is no-damn-body. We don’t have days off, sick leave, “mental health” days and all that stuff for sissies. We work through illness, pain, exhaustion, death in the family—whatever—because the vast majority of us are home-based and have no staff…and are uncomfortable for numerous reasons about having people we don’t know well spend 12 or more hours in our homes caring for “our” critters, so we tough it out, suck it up and continue to ruin our health. This is why so few people last more than three or four years in wildlife rehab: their mental, physical and often financial health is in tatters by that point. I’d go so far as to say that only those of us who’re already pretty severely warped from the outset survive more than five years as rehabbers. (And yes, I’m still having back spasms; yes, I’ve seen a doctor; yes, I’m on meds; no, they’re not proving particularly effective, aside from making me pissier than usual; and yes, last week was hellish as a result, and this week’s not lookin’ too promisin’.)

Only four new intakes this week—never a complaint when things are on the slow side, as this late in baby season, any small lull is a godsend.

Monday a fledgling brown thrasher came in; Wednesday a mockingbird nestling came in; Thursday a pre-fledgling barn swallow; Friday a juvenile cardinal.
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The thrasher is doing well and headed for the songbird flight shortly. 

The mockingbird died overnight, to my surprise—he was alert, vocal, eating well…and died in his sleep during the night.
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The barn swallow wandered into a commercial garage and seemed unable to fly. After observation of his behavior, I believe he fledged too early, as he seems quite content to just sit in the nest—not something a fledgling will normally do.

Friday’s juvie cardie was a window strike victim who made it through her first night when her finder placed her in a box in a quiet, dark room overnight—perfect for window strike victims, to give them time to get their bearings again. When she couldn’t fly and still acted wonky the next morning,  she came to LWR, where I suspected severe head trauma and some neurological issues. She died that night.
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The mini-flight is completed and has its first occupants, the two juvenile red tails, who are quite happy to be outside.

​The screech twins have been released, but I have no videos or photos; I simply opened the raptor flight door near dusk one evening and gave them the option of freedom. They were out of there before dark. The next morning, I placed the red shoulder trio in the raptor flight.

They’ll be ready for release within another week or so, freeing the raptor flight for the red tails and the mini-flight for the MIKI.
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The wood ducklings have graduated to the actual tub for their swims and are having a blast.

Two of the Carolina wrens survived and are ready for the songbird flight. I tried all week for photos of them but not one of them turned out worth using. Maybe once they’re in the songbird flight…
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The MIKI is growing like a weed—just look at the feather development in the past week! To give you an idea of just how much keratin they preen off their feathers daily, the photo of what looks to be a pile of salt and pepper is actually half a day’s worth of keratin preened from his feathers and in the bottom of his nest when I changed his paper.

​And, of course, the juvie black vultures supervised the final stages of construction on the mini-flight. I told AJ I didn’t know how we would’ve managed without their expert supervision. Enjoy these photos of the silly rascals; as soon as their expertise was no longer needed, they stopped coming around. I’ve seen them twice since then, and one of those times they were with three other vultures, who flew away as “my” two flew down to me. “They’s all growed up now!”

​This week’s update is short—pulled a muscle in my lower back somehow and sitting at the computer for too long causes it to spasm. It was late this afternoon before I could tolerate sitting here at all, so…enjoy this little bit while I grab the bottle of ibuprofen!

Last week was quite busy at LWR, with an influx of songbirds, only one new raptor, and a building project begun.

The “star” of the week was an adorable Mississippi kite, aka MIKI (abbreviation used by ornithologists), who was taken away from a dog. The rescuer had no idea where the nest was located, so wee MIKI will now grow up at LWR. It’s MIKI nesting time, so others will be likely arriving over the rest of the month. In the meantime, ya gotta admit, there’s very little cuter than a baby raptor!

A mockingbird fledgling was also dumped at LWR after the finder kept it for 4 days and decided feeding a baby bird was too much trouble. At least they had the common sense to feed it insects and not give it water… No photos; I just realized I didn’t take any of the mocker, and the lights are off on the babies for the night.
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A dog-attacked robin fledgling arrived breathing heavily, with a badly mauled wing, a ruptured air sac, blood on his belly and a watery, swollen eye. He didn’t survive the night.

​A juvenile male cardinal who likely struck a window looks to have a coracoid fracture; his wing droops slightly at the shoulder, which is typical of such a fracture. He’s too active for a still photo; here’s a short video.

​Friday afternoon four nestling Carolina wrens were found in a car about to be crushed. A last-minute check by an employee for anything that needed to be removed prior to crushing the car resulted in these babies being brought  to LWR Saturday morning. So far, so good, although the runt may be iffy. We’ll see…

And when her neighbor’s lawn care service blew down a nest of baby birds and planned to leave them to die, a young woman in the metro Atlanta area scooped them up, called all the listed rehabbers for the metro area, and ended up bringing the poor babies some 150 miles one way to LWR Saturday. They appear to be barn swallows, although again, the runt is struggling.

​Rounding out Saturday, a fledgling blue jay was rescued from an imminent dog attack and is now at LWR.  

​Rain chances of over 50% most of last week nixed the planned screech release, so that’s now slated for this week, as rain chances are in the more acceptable 10-20% range. They’re both antsy, so the sooner we can release, the better.

​That will free up the raptor flight for the red shoulder trio, and the red tails will go in LWR’s newest structure, a mini-flight that will serve as a holding pen of sorts for birds who need more room to stretch their wings when the raptor flight is full. Volunteer AJ Rogers realized this was a need for LWR and drew up the plans, purchased the materials and did the bulk of the work on this 4x8 foot mini-flight. I assisted where I could, but the bulk of the work on this is AJ’s. We should finish it up tomorrow, or that’s the plan at the moment, anyway.

The Cooper’s hawk dropped dead. I mean, literally. Coops are prone to—I dunno how to describe it—apoplectic seizures or something when stressed, and after this poor gal slid down a tree on her release attempt the previous week, she was majorly stressed. She literally keeled over face-first, feet still clutching the perch.

The wood ducks are growing steadily; the older is getting some nice color on his wings—and the color does make me think he’s really a male. I meant to video them swimming every day last week and got sidetracked every day, so…next week!
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The juvie black vultures are still bringing friends into the yard; this week started with a youngish turkey vulture and ended with an adult black vulture. Of course, they also had to supervise the mini-flight construction and assist with water for the wood ducks, who will soon be too big for their little swimming tub that makes capturing them to remove them from the water so much easier…

And finally, the promised—or threatened, take yer pick—rant, beginning with the reason for it…

Today a call came in from a neighboring county. Some person had an egret—they thought. They’d had it since Friday and had taken it to their vet, who’d given it an antibiotic injection and then broke the law by returning it to the individual (vets in GA are allowed to treat wildlife but are supposed to confiscate it if brought in by the public, and call a rehabber to take it). Said individual had been feeding the poor bird tilapia and SARDINES. The tilapia’s fine; the sardines will end up killing the bird from the sheer salt content. I explained all this to the individual, who then asked, “Are you qualified to treat birds?”

I paused a looong moment while I bit my tongue, since the person had apparently not listened to my voicemail message—in which just about every other word is ‘birds’—despite leaving me a message. Then I replied, “I have state and federal permits for bird rehab.”

I don’t have the egret as of tonight and will be reporting this person tomorrow, giving them the benefit of the doubt until then. But I don’t expect to see the bird.
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Meanwhile, this is what I wanted SO badly to tell this person but didn’t because I knew they’d hang up mid-rant:
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Here are my qualifications for “treating” birds:

• I have state and federal songbird and raptor rehab permits.
• I have 20 years of hands-on experience, 15 of it under my own permits.
• I had to pass a state exam and serve apprenticeships with licensed songbird and raptor rehabbers in order to meet the federal requirements for a permit.
• My facilities are regularly inspected by GA DNR. Both DNR game wardens and FWS agents have the legal right to inspect my premises at any reasonable hour, with no advance notice, and because I have nothing to hide, representatives of both agencies know they’re welcome at any time.
• I have the trust and respect of the game wardens and FWS agents throughout the state that I’ve had dealings with.
• I have vets with wildlife training and experience who volunteer their services to ensure the wildlife under my care receives the very best care possible.
• I have a worldwide network of colleagues I can call upon for advice, assistance or just to vent.
• I continue yearly to add to my knowledge of best practices, through study, rehabber groups, etc., so that the services I provide to the wildlife under my care reflect the current best practices in the field.

 
And you, caller who feeds sardines to a wild bird—what are YOUR qualifications to even breathe the same air as my precious birds?

As in more intakes, one release, and them what’s still hangin’ ‘round…
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Starting last week with a bang, as it were, a window-strike Cooper’s hawk came in on Monday. As y’all are by now aware, Coops are psychotic, high-strung birds. It took a couple of days for this gal’s swollen eye to go down, then the threat of rain delayed her release, and when we finally tried to “git ‘er gone” earlier today, she flew straight into a tree and bounced onto the ground on her back. Needless to say, she’s back at LWR…

​Hot on her heels, on Tuesday a late nestling brown thrasher came in from a vet clinic in a neighboring county. He was brought in by one of their clients after being found covered with ants. One of their vet techs brought him to LWR after she got off work.  He’s on antibiotics for the ant bites and is up and down.

​Later that day, FIVE wood ducklings came in after being found in someone’s yard with no mother in sight. These babies still had egg teeth on their beaks. One of them had been roughed up by the finder’s dogs and died shortly after intake, and one died a couple of days after arriving at LWR. Wood ducklings are high-stress little birds, so honestly, some attrition is always expected with them. It’s never pleasant but it’s expected. The remaining three have adopted the older wood duck already at LWR as a surrogate mother, much to that poor bird’s consternation. S/he walks around with one or more in tow, looking at me like, “What’s goin’ on here?”

​On the Fourth, a sopping wet young barred owl came in after being found in a pool. Once he dried out, rain threats also delayed his release until today.

The next day, a fledgling blue jay came in, already agonal breathing and stone cold. He’d wandered up to his finders on the evening of the third and his finders assumed his parents would come back for him the next morning—which is a valid assumption; fledglings aren’t abandoned by their parents. The fact that a supposedly wild fledgling just wandered up to these folks sends up all kinds of red flags for a rehabber, though—it honestly sounds like someone tried to raise the bird illegally and then dumped him, for him to wander to the nearest humans he saw for help.
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At any rate, the folks he wandered up to placed him back outside on the Fourth and monitored the situation; by that evening, he was still alone, so they took him back in and offered him an emergency diet of blueberries—not a horrible option for an older bird. They called LWR and left a message but Verizon didn’t deliver their voicemail until early on the fifth—gotta love the non-service we all too often get from these cell phone providers, considering the ungodly fees they charge.  By the next morning when I actually got their message, he wasn’t in good shape, and he didn’t last too long after arrival.

And yesterday, this baby was delivered to LWR after a storm in a neighboring county knocked his nest from the tree. His finder said all his sibs were killed either on impact or by ants and yellow jackets. He’s still a bit iffy, but fingers are crossed. Can you guess the species? Here’s a hint: “nekkid as a…” (For you non-Southerners and for those Southerners who’ve been too corrupted by a steady diet of TV and/or who’re in denial of their rich Southern heritage, I’ll provide the answer at the end of the update.)

​The red tails were briefly roomies, but I worried that the slightly older of the two was hogging all the food, so I separated them again.

The screech twins should be ready for release by mid-week, freeing the raptor flight for the red shoulder trio.

​The vultures are still hanging around, usually up to shenanigans due to their natural intelligence and inquisitiveness. I have to say they’ve been the highlight of the 2019 baby season thus far!

​(The mystery baby above is a blue jay; the expression is “nekkid as a jaybird.” Now you know why!)

It was a glorious week of releases, with 15 birds returned to the wild, and a neat first-time-at-LWR bird, as well, who was also one of the releases—even better!
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Let’s start with the first-timer, as I’m sure y’all’re curious by now. We had a juvie yellow-crowned night heron come in late night, mid-week via a volunteer transporter. The finders thought it had a broken leg, as it was stumbling when they saw it. By the next morning, however, he was standing fully on both legs, no wing injuries, and highly peeved at being confined, which he announced to me every time I went near his box. As is the case with most waterfowl, he was a bit on the skinny side, so a couple of days of the LWR buffet seemed in order before releasing him. And boy, was he happy to go!

​Both juvie barred owls were also released, freeing the raptor flight for the screech twins.

​The concussed adult red shoulder from two weeks ago was finally released, as well.

​And we had a slew of songbirds opt for freedom when the escape hatch on the songbird flight was left open for them: 2 Eastern phoebes, 2 house finches, 4 great crested flycatchers, and 1 Eastern kingbird. And yes, I’m currently being mobbed every time I walk out the door by birds eager for a handout. Hitchcock ain’t got nothin’ on me!

For all intents and purposes, the juvie black vultures have also been released. They hang around the farm, but we never know where they’ll show up next: my roof, my mother’s roof, the toolshed roof, the top of the raptor flight, the top of the songbird flight…

However, they do know when I’m in the yard and, like the Elephant’s Child, being ‘satiably curious, they swoop in to see what I’m up to and hint that they really, really need a handout just like the songbirds…
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Only four new intakes, just one of whom didn’t require euthanasia. A juvenile mocker came in with severe nerve damage; he couldn’t stand at all. Two barred owls came in with fatal injuries: one had an open wing fracture; the other’s wing was so maggot-infested that there was almost no flesh left on it.

​The cat-attacked nestling brown thrasher, however, suffered only a ruptured air sac that has “deflated” already, although he is on antibiotics because of the cat saliva.

​The mystery hatchling from Monday’s late update is a bluebird. He’s kinda rough looking and is up and down, surviving but not really thriving, so we’re just taking it one feeding at a time.

​The wood duck continues to do well.

​The red shoulder trio will be next for the raptor flight, as soon as the screeches move out.

​And then the first red tail will have his chance, and....

​…The second red tail, having completed his treatment for capillaria, is acting much more “red-tailish” so I’m thinking I’ll put these two youngsters together and see how they do. Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends and I discussed it, and it’s probably in the best interest of both birds to have a buddy to be a red tail with, so…fingers crossed their introduction goes well!

​Finally, today is the last day of the LWR summer fundraiser, and we’re at $1540, still $960 from our goal. A huge thanks to those who’ve donated already; to those who’ve been waiting, today’s your last chance to “help give Nature’s children a second chance.” 

Which is unusual, given the raptor-fest of this baby season. Still, just one new raptor last week, and a slew of songbirds.
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Let’s start, though, with the fundraiser, as time is running out. The fundraiser is slated to end on June 30, and we still have $1080 to go to meet our $2500 goal—and I just placed yet another $600 mouse order. It’s costly to feed these birds of prey! Remember, your donations are tax-deductible—and more useful to LWR’s guests than attagirls or thank yous!

​The sole new raptor last week was another young red tail, still with heavy down behind his breast feathers, rail-thin, an incipient case of frounce, and possibly capillaria, too. Frounce is acquired from eating pigeons and capillaria comes from rodents. He flew into an open dog pen and when the dogs started in after him their owners snatched him up and brought him to LWR. This fellow is waaaay too sweet and docile; he’s really not ready to be on his own and will require intensive work to enhance his survival chances in the wild.

He’s finished his frounce treatment and started his capillaria treatment and will be transferred to colleague Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends for more individualized attention than I can currently spare as soon as he’s finished his capillaria treatment.
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Early last week, a bluebird nestling, almost ready to fledge, came in, the sole survivor of a snake raid on the nest. Physically she seemed fine but as I’ve mentioned a time or two in the past, stress is a killer. She never recovered from the stress of seeing her sibs devoured by a snake and barely made it 36 hours, poor little girl.

​Then a dog-attacked brown thrasher came in with a badly broken leg, and his poop was black and tarry, indicating internal bleeding.  He didn’t survive the night.

​A young cattle egret with a nasty triple fracture—shoulder, humerus and wrist—required immediate euthanasia. An elderly couple found him in a water trough, so no one has any idea how his wing was so damaged.

​Someone cut down a tree without checking for nests first and made orphans of these four great crested flycatchers, just days before they would’ve fledged. I’d wager a mere 24 hours would’ve been enough for them to be out of the nest, but noooo…And now, of course, they don’t trust a human parental substitute, making feedings a chore for all of us.

This grackle nestling was being tossed by a dog when the owner intervened, but it was too late; the poor baby’s wing was broken and his hip was fractured, as well. He required euthanasia.

While he awaited a spare moment for me to euthanize him, the grackle acted as a buddy to a brown-headed cowbird nestling. I’ll be perfectly honest; I would’ve preferred to euthanize the cowbird and save the grackle had it been feasible.  Cowbirds aren’t on my extensive list of favorite birds. They’re parasitic nesters—I call them welfare birds, as they lay their eggs in another bird’s nest and let the other birds raise the cowbird babies, often at the expense of their own offspring.

Another house finch also came in; no photos of him, as he’s a fledgling who totally doesn’t trust me and attempts to escape at each feeding. He’s fed every half hour from sunrise to sunset—you do the math on the number of daily escape attempts…
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And Sunday this hatchling, possibly a bluebird, was confiscated by one of LWR’s volunteer transporters when she saw a woman with it at PetSmart—and yep, they’d sold her the Kaytee Exact that will KILL wild birds.

Folks, in case you don’t remember, first, it’s against state and federal law to possess wild birds without a permit. Second, Kaytee is a crap diet for wild birds; the company even has a label on the product warning you NOT to feed it to wild birds. If you want to see what it does to a wild bird, go to the LWR Facebook page and look at the pinned post of its effects on a blue jay fed the crap for nearly a month.

In news of older LWR “guests,” much-needed rain has delayed the barred owls’ releases, so that’s put everybody in a holding pattern for the raptor flight. The screeches are next in line, followed by the red shoulders and then the older red tail. No new photos of any of them this week.
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On the songbird front, the mocker and blue jay were released and are still demanding handouts.  Only the jay will tolerate the camera, though...

Two of the three phoebes are in the songbird flight; one died. It’s so frustrating when birds are getting the same diet at the same frequency of feedings, and two thrive and one just dies for no apparent reason…

The house finch who was in the songbird flight last week is still there; he refused to leave  before new birds were placed in with him, and now he and the kingbird are buddies—go figure.
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The kingbird’s ruptured air sac took till mid-week to finally go down so he looked normal, but now he’s a gorgeous fellow. 

​And the juvie black vultures are starting to assert their independence a little more. I never know where they’ll fly into the yard from, as they’re venturing farther and farther from their comfort zone now but always seem to find their way back before sunset to roost nearby for the night. I fully expect them to disappear for good fairly soon, which is as it should be. They’re figuring out they don’t really need me anymore!

LWR had another hectic week, with 24 intakes in 7 days, five releases, and, of course, the umpteen other birds already in care. At this point I’m not even counting; if I do, I may end up in a corner banging my head against the wall. The good news is we’re just over the halfway mark on the fundraiser!
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Starting with the releases, the adult barred owl who came in a month ago with a broken leg regained his freedom.

​Also, the first-year red tail from the previous week was released.

​One of the great horneds took his leave; no decent video or photos. The other proved unable to fly and is back inside while the flight pen is occupied by the barred owl duo.

​The other two releases were a juvenile mourning dove that came in late last Sunday and a juvenile tree swallow that came in mid-week. They both were apparently victims of lack of full waterproofing during last week’s rain, as both were perfectly able to fly and self-feed once they’d dried off.  Since both were self-sufficient prior to intake, they had none of the trust birds that come in younger do and high-tailed it the moment I opened the “escape hatch” on the songbird flight. 

So that’s the releases and two of last week’s intakes sorted…
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The fledgling blue jay from last Sunday’s update is in the songbird flight, along with a kidnapped mockingbird fledgling. As a reminder, if a bird has short tail feathers and is capable of some unskilled and sloppy short flight, it is a fledgling and is still being fed by its parents as it learns to forage and improves its flight skills. Unless it is injured, in the middle of the road, or in imminent danger of a cat or dog (or other predator) attack, LEAVE IT ALONE and let the parents finish their job.

​They are joined by a fledgling house finch who was kept illegally for nearly a week, fed a crap diet and driven all over the state unrestrained by an individual who felt s/he was now an “expert” because they’d done a Google search. May I remind y’all that the VAST majority of wild bird care information on the Internet is just plain wrong and potentially lethal to the birds? Also, it is against state and federal law to possess wildlife without permits; the public is generally allowed a 48-hour window to locate a properly licensed rehabber before they’re considered in violation of the law.

​Contrast the actions of that individual with those of the woman who saw the nest that had been under her porch eaves on the ground as she as headed to work, with one baby dead. She attempted to place the nest as close as possible to its original location, left for work and was devastated when she came in that afternoon to find the nest on the ground again, with another dead baby. Having attempted to do the right thing in replacing the nest, without the results she hoped for, she immediately called LWR and brought the three surviving Eastern phoebes, who have grown like weeds in just a few short days. They’ll be in the songbird flight by the end of this week.

​LWR doesn’t see many yellow-billed cuckoos and they’re usually adults, so when this sweet bird arrived, I was—and remain—quite entranced. Cuckoos are shy birds; you hear them much more often than you see them. This sweetheart is also nearly ready for the songbird flight.

​And hot on her heels came a fledgling Eastern kingbird, another species LWR seldom sees, found in the middle of the road. This poor fellow has a ruptured air sac on the back of his head. Birds have air sacs throughout their bodies; they aid in flight. When one is ruptured, usually through some sort of trauma, the air migrates to the skin surface and creates what looks like a huge blister. If the ruptured air sac will interfere with proper positioning of the wings, ability to stand, or ability to eat, it can be drained. In this case, though, it wasn’t interfering with anything but the poor fellow’s looks, giving him a massively oversized head, so I’m allowing it to go down on its own. It’s already noticeably smaller.

When callers said they had a nest of chimney swifts fall in the fireplace, I explained that if they placed the babies back in the fireplace in a shallow saucer lined with a paper towel they’d be able to see if the parents were coming down to feed them, which they will do ninety-nine percent of the time—and to put up a fire screen or piece of cardboard or something to block off the fireplace. After the ninety-minute window I’d given the callers passed with no callback, I sighed a HUGE sigh of relief, as chimney swifts are highly labor-intensive birds. But Murphy cackled with sadistic glee…

Seems the callers had placed the babies back in the fireplace, per my instructions, erected NO screen to block off the fireplace, and left for a day trip. When they came back the parents had indeed tried coming down to feed the babies, but their cat had killed one parent and maimed the other badly enough that it required euthanasia.
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So…six naked chimney swifts, without heat or food for possibly 24 hours, and an adult with a ruptured eye…The adult was euthanized; the babies are hanging in there, except for the runt, who didn't make it. None of them look great and I’m honestly surprised they’ve made it this long, but they may surprise me even further; who knows?

​This adult red shoulder was found stunned by the roadside and is rarin’ to go now, after a couple of days at the LWR B&B. He’ll be released possibly as early as tomorrow.

​Two other red shoulders, both juvies, weren’t as lucky, though. One came in with a degloved leg—the skin was sliced neatly down the entire leg and the flesh was completely missing. There was no neural response at all. He was euthanized.

The second came in late yesterday with a wing broken right in the wrist and a leg broken and totally dislocated at the hip. He was also euthanized.

A third young red shoulder was emaciated but not starvation-thin, and was eating well and looking more alert and healthy…and died overnight.

An adult blue jay was found stuck—literally hanging by his neck—in a truck bumper. An intake exam revealed his right shoulder was shattered, so he was euthanized.

What appeared to be a fledgling swallow came in covered with dried mud and already agonal breathing. Before I could euthanize, he died.
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And this fledgling bluebird was a cat-attack victim. He was also agonal breathing on intake and also didn’t survive long enough to be euthanized. 

Let me hop on my soapbox yet again: KEEP YOUR CATS INDOORS WHERE THEY BELONG. If you don’t want them killing wildlife, KEEP THEM INSIDE. Is that perfectly clear? CATS BELONG INDOORS.
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The final new intake for the week was a juvie barred owl pulled from a barbed-wire fence. The wing looked pretty raw and I couldn’t feel any fractures but swelling will often hide a break. As the swelling in the shoulder went down, the wing began drooping badly, indicating the possibility of either a shoulder fracture or a torn tendon. He came in late Friday afternoon, so we’ll see how things look tomorrow to determine if a vet visit or euthanasia is called for.

​The screech twins have about had it with their box; I’m hoping to get them in the raptor flight by the end of the week at latest.

​The red shoulder trio is in larger digs but would also prefer to be in the raptor flight. Maybe within another 10 days or so…

The red tail was camera shy this week, literally hunkering down and hiding his face every time I looked his way. His appetite’s good, though!
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The wood duckling continues to do well; I seldom actually see the little rascal except when I fish him out from under his feather duster “mama” for a swim.

​Without a doubt, however, the juvie black vultures were the highlight of my week. I never know where they’ll be anymore; their food is attracting wild cousins into the yard, and they’re so everlovin’ photogenic!

​Finally, at $1345 we’re just over the halfway mark with our fundraiser—another $1155 to go. A huge thank you to those who’ve donated; to those of you who haven’t yet, time’s a-wastin’!