​As of today, we’re still sitting at $2640 of $5500 raised, with 15 new intakes this week. People don’t seem to grasp that caring for these birds is expensive. Why don’t I pitch in myself, you ask? Oh, I do. I don’t take vacations, as that would be spending money that could be used for rehab supplies. If I’m lucky, I might manage one or two weekends a year that I can get the hell outta Dodge for two or three days. This year that won’t happen, as all my “outta Dodge” pennies have gone into funding LWR. So you see, I’m not asking you to make any sacrifices I haven’t already made. I’ve also applied for a small local grant that instructs applicants to call if funding is an emergency. I called after submitting the application. I got stonewalled. Sadly, I can’t go pull money off trees to feed these birds. I wish I could. And I promise you, even if I had a street corner to stand on, at my age, clients would be rather sparse, so that’s out as a fundraising method, too…

​The pileated was released last week, finally. See that tree in the middle of the photo? Yeah, he’s on the other side of it. Little snot made sure he stayed out of camera range till I swore profusely and gave up.

​Unfortunately, the red tail wasn’t as lucky. When I moved her to a smaller box for the trip to Smalley’s for follow-up x-rays, she managed to twist her wing so as to create an open fracture. I found this out when I unboxed her in the x-ray room and saw fresh blood under her wing…and then the jagged edge of a freshly exposed bone. We x-rayed anyway, to see what had happened. The slightly displaced fracture of May had become a massively displaced fracture last week—no healing at all had taken place. We had to euthanize her.

​Another barn swallow came in, this one kept for 10 days by her finders. She was pretty much ready to go, so after a couple of days in the songbird flight, I released her into a flock last week. She still visits me for handouts periodically.

The robin and the mocker stubbornly refuse to leave; I may have to evict them, the freeloading rascals. The hummer died unexpectedly Saturday evening. I’d just topped her off with a hand-feeding—she was mostly self-feeding but I “topped off” hourly to be sure she was getting enough. She ate for me and seemed fine. Five minutes later I turned back to her cage and she was on her back. As she sometimes fell and got her feet caught in her wings trying to right herself, I went over to help her get untangled, and she was dead. My best guess is sheer stress.

I also had two mockers come in, a fledgling who’d had string hung around his leg, resulting in severe nerve damage, and a nestling covered with mites, which it took several hours to rid him of. The fledgling required euthanasia; he was unable to perch and dragged his injured leg behind him. The nestling died overnight, I suspect from blood loss from the mites.
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The flickers are in the songbird flight—well, two of them, anyway. The third chose today to leave through the “escape hatch.”  Were you watching what he did, robin, mocker and remaining flickers???

​This juvenile Cooper’s hawk was observed sitting in a driveway, seemingly oblivious to the traffic on the nearby road.  He had no obvious fractures and only a swollen eye, plus he had a full crop, so my assumption was that he was full and sluggish and got whacked—a concussion that shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Unfortunately, he had massive internal injuries and bled out overnight.

​Three additional woodpeckers came in, this time red-headed woodpeckers. They were stressed beyond belief on intake and still tend to hunker down even when begging for food. If my nest had been destroyed and I’d been fed a crap diet for nearly 24 hours, I guess I’d be a bit stressed, too.

​Both a nestling mourning dove and a nestling Eurasian collared dove arrived at LWR last week, as well, and are happily nested together. That’s one of the things I love about doves; they’re so gentle. The Eurasian collared is the larger, grayer bird; the mourning dove is the smaller, browner one.

​The wood ducklings are getting closer to release; we’re finally starting to see real feather growth on those wings. Good thing, too; they’re getting a bit cramped indoors now.

The broadwing passed his live prey test with flying colors and is ready for release early in the week; the screech is next in line for the raptor flight. I can only imagine how happy he’ll be to have all that space to fly around in.
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When a volunteer transporter called to say she was picking up a “baby bald eagle,” we both chuckled; experience has taught us that it’s never an eagle. Sometimes it’s not even a raptor. Sure enough, she called back shortly, laughing, and said it was either a kite or a broadwing. Given the time of year, my money was on kite and when she arrived with the little fellow, he was indeed a nestling Mississippi kite with a pretty nasty-looking wing injury.

​His wing was raw, bruised, swollen and missing a lot of feathers. The swelling made it impossible to tell if anything was broken, so obviously a trip to Smalley’s was in order the next day. While his little wing looked pretty awful, it had only a minor metacarpal fracture—a small “hand” fracture, as it were. This should heal just fine, and the swelling and bruising have diminished even since these photos were taken.

​The barn owl who came in Saturday may not be as lucky. His leg is broken badly; the open wound on the leg looks too perfectly round to be from a “natural” break, so I’m afraid lead may show on his x-ray, slated for Monday if possible.

And today, while I was trying to work on this update, four new birds came in.
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This little pre-fledgling Carolina wren had three siblings who didn’t survive the night to make it to LWR. Their parents were killed by a shop fan; the nest had been built somewhere in the fan and by the time anyone noticed the dead adults, the babies were in pretty bad shape. Sadly, this little one only survived two hours after arrival at LWR.

Another mocker arrived, with a leg fracture right in the joint and no neural response at all below the joint. He was euthanized.
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This brown thrasher also arrived today. They’re the sweetest birds…

​And while this nestling is in the flycatcher family, I’m not sure which species yet. He ate well up till lights out but never opened his eyes at all; the finder saw her dog near him and wasn’t sure if the dog had attacked him or not. I couldn’t find any injuries but internal injuries often don’t show till it’s too late, so…we’ll see. I adore flycatchers and am curious to see which he is, so fingers firmly crossed that he makes it.

…For at least a few more months. We’ll take it a month at a time. A huge ‘thank you’ to those who’ve donated already; your generosity will allow LWR to continue to “give Nature’s children a second chance.”

 Meanwhile, the fundraiser is still active for another two weeks, and we’re at $2590, 47% of the $5500 goal, with no new donations in two days.  Part of the problem, I think, is that there’s not that sense of ownership with wildlife; you can’t pet a hawk or cuddle with a blue jay, or physically adopt them. So while people will donate out the wazoo to domestic animal groups, they’re less likely to see funding wildlife rehab as “their” problem—until they need a rehabber and discover there are none available because they all shut down from lack of funding. Then there’s a huge hue and cry about how “somebody oughta do something.” Well, folks, YOU are that “somebody” and it’s better to act now than bemoan the lack of rehabbers when it’s too late.
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We should all view wildlife as a trust, to be maintained for future generations.  We don’t “own” wildlife like we do cats or dogs, but it’s our duty to protect our wildlife so that our children and their children can see these creatures in their natural habitat, not read about extinct species in books or see them only in museums or zoos.

Despite the grim funding situation, LWR did have seven new intakes this week, all on Monday, nearly balanced by six releases throughout the week.

An adult chimney swift was DOA; a post-mortem exam showed that the left wing was broken but the bird was also rail-thin and had probably starved to death en route.
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Hot on the swift’s heels was an adult Mississippi kite with an open wing fracture, also left wing. Despite his alertness and overall health otherwise, the wing fracture was a death sentence.

​Then a fledgling mocker was found wandering alone around a body shop. He had a bit of a bloody beak on intake but is fine now. Sorry for the low-quality photo; I was working on this update when I realized I’d not taken any other pix of the little loudmouth this week.

​That oversight was more than likely due to my utter fascination with the next three intakes, nestling Northern flickers.  While LWR has seen several adult flickers through the years, these were the first babies we’d seen, and I admit to being a bit mesmerized by the cute rascals.

On intake I worried that they might have aspiration pneumonia or issues stemming from a crap diet, as their finder had kept them over the weekend, giving them water and feeding them some godawful grits-Purina cat chow mixture and managing to kill the fourth one—which is when she miraculously discovered LWR’s number.

They’re doing great, though, and should be ready for the flight pen by late in the week, I’d guess.
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The final intake for the day—and, as it turned out, the week—was a juvenile hummingbird, a female ruby-throat. Her finder kept her for a solid week, giving her sugar water laced with vitamins—sorta like giving your child a steady diet of Sprite and multivitamins and then wondering why the young’un has health problems, huh? 

She does have some missing flight feathers but nothing seems broken. Both wings are level and move as they should, but the missing feathers prevent flight. The good news is, she’s pretty much self-feeding, so there’s no running to feed her every 15-20 minutes.
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The last four killdeer were released…

​…as were the last two of the nest of four mockers. They’re still hanging around demanding handouts, though.

​The barn swallow, despite her best efforts, was never able to fly—she never managed to even lift herself off whatever perch she had hopped up on. The plan had been to “merge” her with swallows of about the same age who were beginning to fledge under my parents’ carport, as attempting to place her in the nest when she came in could have caused them to fledge prematurely. I figured once they’d fledged, given swallows’ social nature, nobody’d notice one more mouth to feed. Sadly, the stress of attempting to fly and not being able to apparently took its toll on the little sweetheart and she died overnight Wednesday.

The mourning dove, after doing so well for so long, also began to struggle early in the week and started losing weight drastically despite eating normal amounts of food.  When nothing seemed to improve his situation and he began to obviously physically deteriorate, I opted to end his suffering.
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The robin is doing beautifully in the songbird flight and should be releasable as soon as we have several days of low/no rain chances.

​The broadwing, bless his little heart, is slowly beginning to figure things out—he even flew to the “big boy” perch this week, for the first time!

​The wood ducks are getting huge but still not big enough to be outside. Their tail feathers are gorgeous but their wings are still stubby little bits of fluff.

The screech, red tail, pileated and geese are still with us, just no photos this week. See above—I was a bit fixated on the flickers!
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And in closing, I’ll leave you with this photo taken with my phone camera mid-week; it was all I had handy when this gorgeous scene appeared. Of the several shots I took, this one is my favorite because of the bird. It serves as a reminder to me that things will work out somehow, so I’m trusting in the universe and generous donors to aid and abet that “working out” so LWR can continue its mission.

And it tells me all I need to know about just how little you value my services as a wildlife rehabber and—more importantly—the very wildlife I care for. I’ll keep the doors open as long as possible, but as things currently stand, we’re looking at closing the doors for the remainder of the year by the end of the month.
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To give you an idea of average expenses, a small order of mice to feed the raptors costs about $400. I have to place an order twice a month—it’s cheaper than losing a large freezer full of mice in one of our frequent rural power outages.  A small order of mealworms (app. 20,000) sets the LWR account back $120. Because these are best fresh, I order them weekly. A can of dried bloodworms—a great self-feeding incentive for ducks, killdeer and some smaller songbirds and a nice treat for recuperating songbirds—runs almost $18. I go through 2-3 cans of bloodworms a week—let’s use 2.5 for calculation purposes. And then there are the puppy pads and human-sized incontinence pads that I use to line cages and boxes for waterfowl and raptors, and paper towels and tissues to line the songbird nests and enclosures—that’s another $60-100 a month—again, let’s use about $50 for calculation purposes…And that doesn’t even include the various nonprescription meds I keep on hand and the various feeding formulas. The total just for the items I listed prices for and approximate monthly usages of is $1510. That means from January through June, $9060 was required to feed, house and medicate the birds and flying squirrels who came through LWR’s doors—or were still here from late last year. I’m asking for just over half that amount to limp through the second half of the year. It’ll be tight but with the end of baby season—and assuming no late clutches of baby barnies come in again this year—it should be doable. I didn’t just randomly pull a figure out of thin air; I sat down and calculated the bare minimum I thought LWR could scrape by on for the remainder of the year. 

​Thankfully, given the funding crisis, this week saw only four new intakes; sadly, two of the four didn’t make it.
Last Sunday, a woman came home from a weekend trip to find an adult barred owl hanging by a string from a bush in her back yard. Before attempting to cut the bird down she called LWR for help and advice, which she followed perfectly. On arrival at LWR, the owl’s leg was still wrapped in string, with branches still entwined in the string. The leg was raw and irritated but not broken, and the owl was alert, well-fleshed, and vocal. He was also flexing the foot and putting full weight on both legs, so I had high hopes we could, with meds and time, get this bird back into the wild.

However, between noon and four Monday, the owl just keeled over. We suspect internal trauma of some sort probably caused his death.
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Monday, both a robin and barn swallow came in, both late nestlings. Both are among my favorite species to rehab, because they have such great little personalities.  The swallow was found on the ground with the remains of his nest and a dead sibling in a grocery store parking lot; the robin was found in a driveway with no signs of a nest nearby. After a few days of isolation, I put them together for the company, and they immediately nestled down and became best buddies. Rehab makes for strange bedfellows, but they’re cute together, and both seemed to perk up once they had a buddy.

That's not food on the barn swallow's wing; the robin pooped on him.

​The windowstrike juvenile cardinal who came in Tuesday wasn’t as lucky. He remained unable to stand and required euthanasia.

Of the six mockers, two required euthanasia—oddly enough, it was the oldest and youngest, both of whom had come in after being rescued from ants. Both went from doing well to struggling to even stand within the space of hours, days apart.
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Two of the nest of four mockers have been released; the other two are looking as if they’ll head out this week.

​The killdeer are ready to go and will be released this week.

The geese are also ready for release, as soon as I can get them to the site.

The pileated is also good to go; his escapes this week when his cage was being cleaned are evidence of that. No pix of his greasy little butt; he decided last week it would be fun to roll in his suet, so currently he could make a 1950s greaser weep in envy. He’ll need several more baths before release, and then holding for a few days longer, till he can “rewaterproof” his feathers.
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The screech currently spends his days preening, sleeping, eating, and glaring at me—basically living the life of Riley.

​And the wood ducks are growing nicely.

​The red tail is getting antsy, so I think the follow-up x-ray is imminent. Hopefully we’ll get good news, although she’s stuck inside till the juvie broadwing gets his act together. Bless his little heart, that may take a while…at least he’s mantling his food now, so that’s good, but he’s about as clueless a hawk as I’ve ever seen—that’s usually an owl thing. At least he’s adorably clueless…

I’ll keep the updates going until these babies are all released; as things stand now, I cannot afford to accept any new intakes.

​As y’all may have noticed by now, this has been a raptor-heavy year, in addition to the usual full complement of songbirds and a few flying squirrels. As of today, LWR has seen 217 intakes, about half of which have been raptors, and the year is only half over. Things should slow down considerably after July, when baby season begins to wind down, but raptors are generally long-term guests who will still need feeding. This many birds, raptors especially, means pretty hefty monthly expenses, to the tune of an average of $1500 a month thus far this year. With that in mind, we’ve started a fundraiser to make sure we have sufficient funds to see us through the end of the year—hopefully without having to hold a second fundraiser later in the year, as was required last year. The goal is $5500, and the fundraiser will run throughout the month of July. Please donate as generously as your budget will allow, and remember that your donations are tax deductible.

​In other news, it was a week of releases, with all five red shoulders, a barred owl, both brown thrashers, a red-bellied woodpecker and four killdeer sent on their merry way to life in the wild.

​This adult male red tail, pulled from the grille of an 18-wheeler, required euthanasia; both wings had open fractures.

​Four more mockers came in after a dog destroyed their nest in a hedge and the dog’s owner decided it was a smart idea to post on Facebook trying to give them away. Fortunately, one of his friends tagged me and I was able to get the dog’s owner to bring the birds to LWR, where they joined the single mocker from last week.

​A sixth mocker came in yesterday from mammal rehabber Libby Parker-Carey, a younger nestling than the others. He was found on the ground covered with ants but is doing well at the moment.

​Libby also sent a fledgling crow with a wing fracture, but he died en route. The volunteer transporting these two birds stopped along the way to collect a cat-attacked Carolina wren. The cat’s owner swore her cat couldn’t have attacked the bird. Yeah, and hell ain’t hot, either. The photo she sent Libby showed a bird so drenched in cat saliva that when Libby forwarded me the photo I couldn’t even guess at species. He had raw spots on his head and a swollen wing that may or may not have been broken. As lethargic as he was all yesterday, I was not surprised to find him dead this morning.

People, I know I’m preaching to the choir on this, but even if you keep your cats inside, there are idiots who don’t. Spread the word; use every opportunity to explain why outdoor cats are a danger to wildlife, as well as at risk themselves. I’m sick and tired of people refusing to take responsibility for their marauding moggies.
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The younger quartet of killdeer continue to mature and will be fully feathered fledglings before you know it. With the release of the older four, larger digs became available for the younger ones, who initially weren’t sure about all that space.

The mourning dove is doing well and just needs to learn to self-feed to make everybody happy now; then he can go into the songbird flight and in short order gain his freedom.

​When LWR received a message that a falcon had been found by the roadside, I was positive it was in fact NOT a falcon; we don’t see them in Middle Georgia too often. Sure enough, when the finder showed up, he had a mature red-shouldered hawk who was starvation thin and “eat up” with frounce. He seemed to be responding well to both frounce treatment and regular meals and was even totally self-feeding, as opposed to having to be force-fed when he came in, but after casting two slimy gray pellets late yesterday–not their normal color or consistency—he died  last night.

Let me digress a bit here for a public service announcement: People, I don’t care how docile and “friendly” a raptor may appear to be, it’s still a wild bird with talons that can inflict serious damage if they dig in and a beak capable of ripping flesh and—in the case of some raptors—breaking fingers. DO NOT handle these birds bare-handed and don’t EVER assume they’re safe to just tote around like a ragdoll. They’re not. Use common sense and proper precautions when handling raptors: gloves are a given; if you don’t have gloves, a towel, blanket or even a sheet folded several times will give you a means of picking up the bird without acquiring interesting new body piercings. Sometimes you can even herd them into a cardboard box—and here again, NEVER assume because a raptor is stunned or lethargic that it can’t or won’t suddenly go ballistic when you start your vehicle. ALWAYS restrain the bird in a box BEFORE you start your vehicle.
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I also have a huge “oopsie” to admit to—the downy baby that had been fed hamburger and worms for two weeks before being surrendered to LWR is NOT a red shoulder. He is, in fact, a broadwinged hawk. Broadwings “officially” aren’t supposed to breed in Georgia, so even when this fellow didn’t act or sound like a red shoulder should, I chalked it up to his two weeks of less-than-stellar conditions before arriving at LWR. But no, he is a broadwing, which became obvious this week. The young broadwing is now in the raptor flight. The plan was to move the screech out there after the red shoulder quintet was released, but this fellow was going stir crazy, while the screech is in an inside pen large enough to flit about a little, so…change of plans.

​The wood ducklings continue to grow and make bigger and bigger messes in the process. They’re getting real good at splashing water over the edge of the tub during their daily swims…

And the pileated and red tail recovering from wing fractures are doing well and due for follow-up x-rays as soon as I have time to get them in.

While there were only 10 new intakes this week, added to the over 30 already under care, it still equaled an exhausting and nerve-wracking week.
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The week got off to a less-than-stellar start when a rat snake tried to eat one of the younger killdeer. Luckily, I was just down the hall, heard the commotion, and walked in to find a rat snake hanging on the wall with one of my babies in his mouth. I snatched him down to the floor and forced his jaws open so that he dropped the killdeer on the floor. A cursory one-handed exam indicated the poor baby was in shock; a more detailed exam had to wait until the snake was dispatched. I marched him onto my porch, planted my foot in his back and used the porch floor for leverage so I could operate the loppers one-handed—the other hand still had a stranglehold on his neck. Once he was summarily executed, with extreme prejudice, as a colleague likes to say, I gave the killdeer a more detailed exam. He was missing down from his neck and scared witless but otherwise unharmed. Given their high stress levels, however, I worried for the next 24 hours. I’m happy to report he’s doing well almost a week later! His sibs are fine, as well.

​Adding to the general crappiness of the week’s start, a volunteer transporter delivered an adult Mississippi kite whose wing had been sheared completely off. There was absolutely nothing to be done for the poor bird but to euthanize, which I did immediately. The only photo I took was after he was down, of the wing so you could see the damage. Most likely he hit a side view mirror on a car, although whacking a power line just right would also result in the same type of damage.

And people who’d hit an adult mocker with their car and kept it for three days, knowing it had a wing injury, finally decided it needed help when it quit eating and brought it to LWR, asking if we had 100% release rate. I purely snorted. Right. Show me a so-called rehabber who has 100% release rate and I’ll show you someone who’s limiting their intakes to only the wildlife they’re positive they can save—and there’s also a good chance they’re lying on their annual reports. 100% release rate, my arse…like that’ll ever happen…

The mocker they brought died that night, probably from infection in the still very swollen fractured wing.

The snake-bitten red tail died Sunday night, despite our best efforts. And yes, it sucked to lose him when he was fighting so hard and showing some improvement.

The red tail recovering from a wing fracture continues to mend and will be due for follow-up x-rays soon, as will the pileated woodpecker, also recovering from a wing fracture.

The red shoulder quintet is ready for release, having passed their live prey test this week. They’d be gone now, but we’ve had a week of near-steady high rain chances and humidity levels that have wreaked havoc with my nerves. No photos of them, as now the mere act of walking in the raptor flight should qualify for hazard pay. I tuck my head, deliver the food and get out before I get whacked by strafing red shoulders!

Next up for the raptor flight will be the screech, who’s going stir-crazy. I give him maybe two weeks before he passes his live prey test and is good to go. He thinks he’s good to go now!

In other good-to-gos, three of the older killdeer quartet are ready for release. The fourth developed some sort of neurological issue Friday afternoon. He was standing normally Friday morning; he was unable to stand and looked as if he’d broken his leg Friday afternoon. I took him to Smalley’s for x-rays, which showed nothing. Vet Richie Hatcher suggested something neurological and we tried steroids, with no results as of today. Sadly, I’m going to have to euthanize the poor fellow.

Both the brown thrasher duo and the red-bellied woodpecker are ready for the songbird flight, once I seal the “leak” where I’m pretty sure the two snakes got in. There just hasn’t been time this week, and honestly, I wouldn’t’ve put birds out in that stifling humidity, anyway.
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Look at the change in the red belly in just a week! No photos of the thrashers; they’ve decided they hate the paparazzi and freak out when I aim even my phone camera at them.

​The barnie is now totally self-feeding and stable enough for transfer to Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends, to join the barnie mob he currently has. He’ll be accompanied by this gorgeous juvenile osprey, who has a broken wing. Steve has a flight just for osprey, so he’s better set up for this fellow than I am.

​This nestling mourning dove was brought inside the finder's house by a cat. He’s uninjured but has been on antibiotics to be safe. As you can see from the videos, he seems to be doing just fine!

​The downy red shoulder ain’t so downy these days—pretty much just his head! He’s hit that “feed me-no, I’ll do it myself-no, feed me” stage that makes me crazy, and he’s getting antsy, too. As soon as the screech has some flight time and passes the live prey test, Mr. Red Shoulder goes in the raptor flight.

​This is what happens when stressy little birds like Carolina wrens go 24 hours with no food. The finders took them to a mammal rehabber the morning after they found them, and she arranged transport to LWR, but by the time the transporter arrived that afternoon—she was coming from near the Florida line—it was too late. Always, ALWAYS check with a federally licensed bird rehabber to see what can be done to keep the birds alive and stable until they’re with that rehabber or another federally licensed rehabber.

When a caller reported nearly mowing over a baby bird in the middle of their yard and texted a photo of a fledgling mocker, I asked that they place it safely in trees or shrubs near where it was found, so the parents could continue caring for their baby. The caller asked if it would be safe.

People, no rehabber can guarantee that a bird they tell you to re-nest or place in the bushes for the parents to locate will be safe. There are numerous factors we don’t control: hawks, owls, outdoor cats, coyotes, snakes…the list is endless. The point is, IF the baby can be reunited with its parents, that’s normally the route we’re going to suggest, because the parents will do a better job of raising their babies than we ever could. Placing it back where the parents can find it exposes the bird to the same risks it’s faced since hatching. It’s nature, “red in tooth and claw.”

However, if there are obvious risks, like a free-roaming cat, we’ll recommend bringing the baby to us for safety’s sake.

In this case, the caller said they had a free-roaming outdoor cat, because they live “in the country.” Well, guess what? So do I, so far in the sticks that we nearly have to have our sunshine piped in, but I don’t use that as an excuse to allow my cats to roam outside. If anything, it’s more of a reason to keep them in: rural areas are more prone to packs of coyotes, bobcats, great horned owls and other predators who’d love a nice cat-snack.
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My lecture to this effect fell on deaf ears. The mocker arrived an hour later.

​Another caller wanted to tell me her life story when all I needed to know was what bird she’d found and why she thought it needed help. Turned out to be an adult Mississippi kite (MIKI) that she swore couldn’t fly, whose only injuries, confirmed by Richie at Smalley’s, were scratches to the face. Normally I try to get adult birds back to their home territory; this person’s comments about wanting to keep the MIKI as a pet and “train him to sit on my shoulder” (yeah, good luck with THAT) led me to believe this bird would be safer released here and allowed to find his way back home—it was only about 35 miles, and MIKIs can fly pretty darn fast. He was probably home for…ummm…coffee the next morning.

​And finally, the wood ducklings are, of course, adorable.

I don’t even know where to begin…With the 25 new intakes in one week and their various issues or the progress or lack thereof of the ongoing LWR guests?
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Let’s start with a release or three: the GHOs were released early last week and in typical GHO doofusy fashion, only one actually produced a halfway decent video. The second flew off before I could get the camera even aimed at him; the third tipped his box over, came out on the ground in full threat display, and when I turned off the camera and started toward him to check him out, he flew off…This, people, is why I prefer not to have an audience at releases. Ya never know what you’re gonna get: great photo ops or a scene from a Three Stooges movie!

​With the GHOs free now, the five fledgling red shoulders moved into the raptor flight. Unlike owls, red shoulders don’t cluster together for nice photo ops. Below is the best I’ve managed.

​The flyers transferred from Libby for release took a few days before leaving on separate nights, but they did finally succumb to the siren call of my local colony of flyers.

The week wasn’t without its share of sadness, of course—what week in wildlife rehab is? Both the adult screech with the eye injury and the fledgling screech with the foot issues required euthanasia, and another damn snake got into the songbird flight and ate the blue jay. Needless to say, nothing else has been placed in the songbird flight until I finish giving it a thorough inspection to determine how, after two snake-free years, they’re suddenly managing to get in.

The mocker nestling who’d been rescued from ants didn’t make it, and the fledgling mocker who’d been rescued from an avian beat-down last Sunday is looking highly suspect today; I don’t know what’s up with him, but I highly doubt he’ll be with us tomorrow.

The red tail and pileated recovering from wing fractures continue to do well, as does the barred owl whose release seemed a sure thing last week. We tried; he refused. Apparently he needed a few more days’ R&R at the LWR Bed & Breakfast.
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The remaining fledgling screech is doing the usual “drive the rehabber insane” routine: eating well one day, refusing to eat the next, acting normal one day, acting “off” the next…I swear they do this stuff deliberately to see how big a panic they can send rehabbers into…

​The nestling red shoulder has outgrown his tiny box and now has new digs.

In terms of new intakes, well, grab a drink and a snack and get comfy; we’re gonna be a while…
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This fledgling barn owl was found alone inside an old house, rail thin and lethargic. The family who found him knew they had barnies nesting in the old house but thought they’d all fledged until they found this poor fellow. After a few days of force-feeding, he finally decided he preferred to eat on his own and is acting like a real barnie now. In a few days, he’ll be transferred to Bubba & Friends raptor rehab, where Steve Hicks has, at last count, nine—I think—barnies, so he’ll be with a good group of his “kin.”

​When a family heard a commotion on their porch at midnight, they rushed out to find three pre-fledgling brown thrashers, one in the cat’s mouth, one in the dog’s mouth and one free. The cat-attack victim had a severely broken leg; it wasn’t fixable and he required euthanasia. The other two are doing great and will be ready for the songbird flight as soon as I’m sure I’ve snake-proofed it.

Late last week I got a call from a person who’d “rescued” 10 wood ducklings when they “fell from the tree.” People, wood ducklings hatch and then free-fall from the tree to the ground, where they bounce once or twice and set off after Mama Woodie to head for the nearest water source. He kidnapped these babies. My voicemail message clearly states if callers can’t or won’t bring me wildlife, they are not to leave a message. He not only left a message; in that message he stated that he was willing and able to bring me the ducklings.

When I called him back, he said his children had been “playing” with the ducklings for five hours. I explained that he had, in fact, kidnapped the ducklings and that his children needed to leave them alone, as they’re high-stress birds. He then said that he’d get them to me as soon as his children got out of the pool. Three hours later, no ducklings, no replies to texts or calls. I reported him to the game warden and wrote the poor wood ducklings off as dead, given that the idiot admitted he didn’t know how to care for them.

God bless my game wardens; Dan Stiles, who took this case, didn’t give up until he located the ducklings. The original caller had given them to a buddy who raised game fowl, who KNEW he wasn’t supposed to have the ducklings but took them anyway. Both jackasses got reamed by Dan, who confiscated the nine surviving babies and brought them to LWR.
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Within 24 hours we lost two more; the remaining seven are thriving and just as adorable as they can be. 

When people noticed a great blue heron hanging around and acting odd, not flying away when approached, they called one of LWR’s volunteer transporters, who got the bird and brought it here. He was thin, but most herons tend to be on the thin side. His eyes were bright and clear; he was alert; nothing was broken. I was stymied, so I called colleague Grace Krick in Connecticut, who’s my go-to for waterfowl questions. Other than suggesting treating for parasites, which is standard protocol for waterfowl, she agreed that it was puzzling. He was keeping down his food, standing upright—nothing seemed wrong and yet something obviously was.
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The next day he started throwing his food up and by that night was unable to stand. The final straw was when he started having seizures just before lights-out. No bird is going to suffer like that on my watch. I euthanized him that night.

About midweek a worker at a dog and cat rescue called LWR reporting that a teenage girl had called the rescue stating that three baby birds “just showed up” in her bathroom.  A volunteer transporter met the teen, who thrust the box of birds at her and drove away before the volunteer could ask any questions, and when she texted me a photo of the birds, they were killdeer. I promise you, ain’t no way three tiny killdeer “just showed up” in that girl’s bathroom. I called the rescue worker back to see if she could contact the girl for more info, and she said the teen was sticking to her story.
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They were weak and lethargic on intake, and given their general stressiness, I figured they were done for.

And hot on their heels, a woman called “for another child,” not her son, and said he’d found a baby bird in his yard and took it inside. When she texted me a photo, guess what it was? Yep, another killdeer. And when they arrived with the bird, the pre-teen had given it milk. I sorta lost it at this point and just looked him straight in the eye and informed him, “Birds don’t have boobs. You may have just killed this bird; birds can’t digest milk.”

This little bird was in even worse shape from milk and overhandling. I put him with the other three, fully expecting to lose all four overnight.
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To my surprise and delight, they’re doing well—not as active or vocal as the older killdeer quartet were when they came in, but eating and peeping quietly.

​Speaking of the older killdeer quartet, just look at how they continue to grow!

​As if seven wood ducklings and eight killdeer, all high-stress birds, weren’t enough, five nestling chimney swifts—very high maintenance birds—also came in. Thus far they’re doing well.

​And this nestling woodpecker, probably a red belly—too soon to be sure—came in when one of the vet techs at Smalley’s said her father found him on the ground and couldn’t locate the nest.

Adding to the general chaos of the week, concerned residents of a neighborhood who love their local red tails brought an adult male to LWR with what they thought was a broken leg, as he was unable to stand. On intake, a quick exam showed no breaks but a massively swollen and bloodied foot. The bird was starvation thin and lethargic. I haven’t had to treat bumblefoot, an infected wound on a bird’s foot, in almost a decade, so I called Steve Hicks to confirm my memory was correct on protocol. He suggested taking him in for x-rays just to confirm there were no pellets present in the leg or foot.
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By the time I took him out of the box at Smalley’s, his upper thigh, which seemed fine on intake, was oozing, so we suspected an abscess that my intake exam may have ruptured. The previously unnoticeable wound now looked consistent with an abscess, and the x-rays showed no pellets, no breaks. 

​By the next morning, however, while the foot had gone down noticeably, he’d broken with maggots all in and around the thigh wound, and none of my usual cleaning procedures were working. I could still see the damn things moving under his skin. So I called Smalley’s and vet Peggy Hobby suggested a treatment I’d never tried. I ran to Smalley’s to pick up the meds I needed, and by the time I got back, the red tail’s leg was black—and now two puncture wounds were clearly visible.

​*sigh* I called Smalley’s back to ask Peggy what we needed to do for a snake-bitten bird. The treatment was exactly what we’d already discussed the previous day, when we were convinced he’d tangled with a squirrel and had an abscess. So that’s where we stand today: his foot “deflates” a little more each day; his thigh is black but not hard, and we’re hoping the flesh that rots away from the snake venom will be replaced with new flesh. It’s uncertain at this point, but he is looking and acting better than on intake.

​And in case you’re curious, LWR is now at 198 intakes for the year and it’s just midyear. Close to forty of those birds are still “guests” here. And yes, I’m exhausted…

​‘Cause I honestly thought this week had been a bit slower till I sat down to work on this week’s update and realized LWR’d had 12 intakes, in addition to the ongoing “guests.” The good news is that we had four releases this week! But first…
 
…can you stand this much adorable?

​This poor little downy red shoulder hawk's nest was destroyed by a logger, who then took him home and fed him worms and hamburger for TWO WEEKS before contacting LWR. He claimed he’d been trying through DNR to locate a rehabber for that length of time as well, but I wasn’t buying it. All DNR employees have access to the same list the public does, published on their website, so DNR not being able locate a rehabber sounds like hogwash to me. Especially since he kept lowering the amount of time he’d had the bird. It went from 2 weeks in a voicemail to a week and a half on the phone to a week to the volunteer transporter who rescued the bird to 5 days in a follow-up message to me. Sounds like someone could have had a promising career in politics to me…

​At any rate, the sweet little fellow finally, after three days of proper diet, cast his first pellet and I nearly danced a jig. It was small, but it was a PELLET! He’s eating well and casting those pellets regularly now; hopefully there won’t be any developmental issues that show later as a result of that early crap diet.

​Sadly, an adult red shoulder that came in the same day didn’t survive the night. He was emaciated and lethargic on intake and didn’t really have a chance.
 
Nor did this poor little hatchling, probably a mocker, who had been found covered with ants.

In another case of human idiocy, this fledgling blue jay had also been kept illegally for two weeks and fed beef strips and worms—and treated like a pet. He’s having to be re-trained not to perch on my shoulder, because that’s NOT what a wild bird should do. Again, there are no immediate signs of damage, but nutritional deficiencies sometimes come back to haunt us later down the road.  People, I cannot stress this enough: when you find orphaned, injured or ill wildlife, DON’T TRY TO “FIX” IT YOURSELF. CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY. Not an hour from now, not tomorrow, not next week. IMMEDIATELY. 

​And yet another adult barred owl came in, probably hit by car. Luck was with him; he escaped with nothing more than a nasty headache and might be released as early as this afternoon.
 
This little mocker nestling alternates between lethargy and energetic gaping for food. His finders said the entire nest looked to’ve been attacked and destroyed, and he was found on the ground on top of a dead sib. Could have been a free-roaming cat or a raccoon or a hawk or owl, or even a gray squirrel. I’m presuming cat attack and medicating accordingly, just to be safe.

​When mammal rehabber Libby Carey said she had an anhinga, also known as a water turkey or snake bird (when they swim, only their heads and necks are above water; looks like a snake) and that it appeared to be a fledgling, we both presumed he’d just gotten lost somehow, since he was found in a parking lot with no parents in sight. He wasn’t self-feeding, and Libby got him to me ASAP. Sadly, he didn’t survive the night.

​I’d guess this juvenile house finch, who also came from Libby, whacked a window, as she reported him “helicoptering” when he tried to fly. He seemed alert and flying well the morning after intake here from Libby: he escaped and flew nicely through the rehab room, so to the flight pen he went, where he flew perfectly and was subsequently released. Not the greatest shot of him, but it was one of the few times he was actually not in motion in the songbird flight!

Libby is having issues with some stray cats she hasn’t been able to catch, so she was reluctant to release her last two flyers in her yard. Since I have a colony here, she asked if I could take her “babies” for safe release here. Of course, I’ll never say no to flyers! These two have the option of freedom every night but haven’t yet taken advantage of it. Once my local colony gets wind of them, though, I suspect they’ll be long gone, joining the happy throng that populates my woods.

​And just today, this mocker fledgling came in. The finder had seen adult birds that looked to him like mockers as well attacking the fledgling, and when he intervened, he thought he saw injuries to the wing. An intake exam revealed no injuries, just the normal bare-ish underwings of a fledgling bird. I explained that the adults were probably attacking this fellow because he wasn’t their baby but had wandered into their territory. Mockers are territorial little terrors.

​And now to those releases: three barred owls and a red shoulder regained their freedom this week! One of the barreds and the red shoulder weren’t too sure initially; the second barred took off like a flash, precluding video or photos; the third barred at least allowed for some decent video but no photos.

​The goslings still haven’t made it to their planned release site…time constraints on my part. We’re working on it!

​The adult screech eats well but I’m thinking based on his behavior that his eye is at least uncomfortable and at most painful. Wild animals mask their pain quite well; they have to in order to survive.  We’re probably looking at euthanasia for him, which hurts my heart. I love “my” screeches.
 
The two young screeches continue to grow but the foot issue on the little male that I mentioned last week has gotten worse. His feet are rigidly splayed; he cannot bend his toes, which are swollen. And the skin is peeling off his lower legs and feet. Vet Richie Hatcher recommended a course of treatment that I’m trying now, but neither of us is optimistic. Hopeful, yes; optimistic, no. It’s not looking good for the little fellow.
 
The female screech has no issues at all aside from being convinced she’s at least 100 times larger than she is…
 
No photos of the screeches this week; I honestly forgot to get any! Same with the pileated who, surprisingly, hasn’t totally trashed his crate yet. But it sounds like I have major construction going on from dawn till dusk…Gotta love a pileated!
 
The Carolina wren refuses to leave the songbird flight; sadly, an oak snake somehow got in and ate my sweet brown thrasher last night. All I can figure is he slipped in unnoticed yesterday while the “escape hatch” was open. Now I’ll be paranoid about checking for snakes every time I leave it open for birds to leave. Needless to say, this particular snake was terminated with extreme prejudice. I know it won’t bring back the poor thrasher, but he won’t by-God ever eat another bird.

​The GHOs passed their live prey test, so as soon as we have several days of low/no rain predicted, they’re good to go. We need the rain, though, so I’m not complaining about another rain-delayed release.

​Once the GHOs have vacated the premises, the FIVE fledgling red shoulders will move in. No photos of those rascals this week; we’re down to “flyby” feedings, as they’ll seize every opportunity to escape now. They’re beyond ready for the raptor flight!
 
The red tail whose broken wing may or may not heal properly for flight is doing well and eating eagerly. Fingers crossed she’s releasable; if not, as I’ve mentioned before, we’re looking at placing her as an ed bird.

Finally, the killdeer outgrew their box and have been moved to a tub until they’re feathered enough to head for the songbird flight. I was a bit hesitant to move them, given their overall stressiness, but they seem to be adapting just fine to their new, larger digs. They’re such pretty little stilt-legged dears!

While the rehab gods took pity and lowered intakes this week, the pace at LWR remained frenetic, with releases, fruit-basket turnovers and the usual baby season mayhem.
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First, the big news: the barred owl sextet was released and did great—so great, in fact, that I managed only a couple of short videos and just one photo. They scattered like the wind!

​And if you’re still curious as to what those last two intakes were last Sunday, we had an adult barred owl and a pre-fledgling brown thrasher come in. The barred owl had a very nasty eye injury—the conjunctiva covering the eye was ripped badly and there was really no way to repair that. He required euthanasia.

​The Sunday thrasher joined the other one, and they’ve both since gone to the songbird flight, along with the Carolina wren—sadly, the sole survivor of the original quintet—where they’re happily mauling crickets.

​With the raptor flight barred owl-free, the GHOs moved in. They’re happier with room to fly, and as soon as they pass the live prey test, they should be good to go…

​…so the red shoulders can move in. These two are definitely flight pen-ready.

​These two, however need a little more time—although by the time the GHOs vacate, they’ll probably be ready, as well.

​They were joined this week by a third red shoulder, also an older nestling. He was found in the middle of the road and after the initial shock wore off, he turned into an eating machine just like his older foster sibs. I don’t dare put him in the same box with the older two; they’re too aggressive!

​The red-bellied woodpeckers and the obstinate cardinal have been released; after a couple of days the red bellies stopped showing up more than once or twice a day for handouts, but the cardie is a regular still.

I’ve not managed to find time to get the goslings to their release site but they’re still happy in the pen. The red tail is eating well and still just as laid-back as when she came in. The “broadwing” turned out to be the darkest red shoulder I’ve ever seen—when he started feeling his oats he started letting out red shoulder screams right and left. He should be releasable once he’s had another few days of good eats to put some more weight on. The adult screech with the luxated lens is now finding his own food, instead of having it handed to him. This bodes well for his eventual release. The barred owl I was afraid was blind is also finding his own food now, so he may eventually be releasable, as well.
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This Carolina wren fledgling was attacked by a cat and brought to LWR fairly quickly afterwards. She was in good shape and very alert, or so it seemed. I started her on meds, and was pretty sure she’d be headed for the songbird flight once she was off meds. She was dead the next morning.

​An early morning call about a cat-attacked bird led me to believe the bird was on the way immediately, as I stressed the need for speed with cat attack victims—they need antibiotics ASAP, as cat saliva carries bacteria toxic to wildlife. Instead, the finder spent the day looking for “someone closer,” despite the fact that LWR was only a 20-minute drive away. When the adult female cardinal finally arrived late that afternoon, I was hopeful the finder hadn’t wasted too much precious time and started meds immediately. Unfortunately, it was too late; the poor bird died overnight.

​These Carolina wren hatchlings were found in the saddlebag of a repossessed motorcycle. One died before arrival at LWR but the surviving four seemed in good shape…until they all started dying, one by one, within hours of each other. Currently we’re down to just the one survivor, who’s not looking promising.

​This morning yet another hit-by-car barred owl came in, with his left eye swollen shut. It’s cloudy but looks like it should clear up. We’ll see.

​The screeches are doing well, aside from some worrisome foot/leg issues that have cropped up with the younger one. He’ll be headed to Smalley’s for x-rays ASAP to see if we can figure out what’s going on.

​The pileated has discovered that drumming on his crate is a lot more fun than demolishing logs, so I give the crate another week before it’s totally trashed. I keep somewhat older, tatty crates for cases like this, so the really good ones don’t get ruined by over-enthusiastic adult woodpeckers!

​The killdeer are growing like weeds and impossible to photograph now, as they’re never still long enough. I did manage a couple of videos of them right after paper changes, though. Cute little rascals, huh?!

And to give you a rough idea of how the year is going thus far, LWR is at 161 intakes for the year as of today; 73 of those were last month. While that may be small potatoes for a large, fully staffed center, keep in mind that LWR is a one-person operation serving basically the entire southern half of Georgia.

Let’s start by stating that I actually had to make a LIST of everything that came in this week, along with a list of the “old” birds, just so I was reasonably sure no one got left out—and I probably still omitted someone.  And when I finished and looked at the “new” and “old” columns, it suddenly dawned on me just WHY I’m so exhausted…

Starting with an older guest, I’m sad to report we did have to euthanize the leg trap GHO. When I took him in to Smalley’s Friday, both Peggy and Richie agreed that given the lack of neural response and “freezing” of the foot in a splayed position, his chances of survival in the wild were nonexistent. A songbird can survive and even thrive with limited use of a foot; a raptor cannot.  And sadly, this GHO didn’t have the personality to be an educational bird…unless you like to see your audience maimed…

As an aside here, a huge THANK YOU to the fine folks at Smalley’s, who worked me and SEVEN birds in just before they closed for a holiday weekend Friday.  World’s best vets and staff!
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The downy screech continues to do well and has been joined by another downy screech of approximately the same age. Given the size difference between the two, I’m pretty sure the screech from last week is female and the new one is male. Despite being at about the same level of development featherwise, he’s tiny compared to her!

​Of the two adult screeches from last week, one started having seizures. I attempted to treat for this with no success and subsequently euthanized him. The second, the one with the eye swollen shut, was one of the birds Peggy examined Friday. His left lens is luxated, which means the impact when he was whacked by the car literally tore the lens loose. When this happens, the lens can fall backward into the eye or forward through the pupil. Forward is actually better, as it may then pop back into place, given time. Luckily, this fellow’s lens fell forward. While Peggy examined the eye, I snapped a photo to show you what a luxated lens looks like when it’s illuminated where it can be seen.

​The older fledgling blue jay who came in last Sunday has been released; due to his age and probably having been mostly on his own for a while, he didn’t opt to hang around when he left. Below is a photo of him, the cardinal and the brown thrasher in the songbird flight.

“But I thought the thrasher had already been released?” I hear you ask. He had, as had the red bellies. But since I’m leaving the “escape hatch” open to give the cardinal a chance to leave, the thrasher and red bellies take advantage and fly in and out as they please…Brats…
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This nestling brown thrasher is, as are all thrashers, the sweetest little fellow. He was a cat-attack victim who was lucky enough to escape severe injury.

​An adult female cardinal was DOA; a young adult female had been cat-attacked and had a broken hip, requiring euthanasia. Other euthanasias included this poor little female bluebird fledgling who’d been dog-attacked and had a badly fractured shoulder...

​…a red-shouldered hawk with a nasty open wing fracture…

​…a HBC barred owl with trauma-induced glaucoma in his left eye…

​…and a pre-fledgling house finch whose fall from the nest resulted in nerve damage that caused wry neck so badly he couldn’t even eat. He seemed alert but a bit sluggish on intake just before dark but his neck had started twisting by morning and although I gave him time to see if steroids might reduce any inflammation and restore the neck to its proper position, it just got worse. I didn’t even take photos of it as it progressed; it was too painful to look at. The photo below was taken while it was still only mildly twisting…

​This broadwing hawk was found in the woods, grounded and unable to stand. He was on the verge of starvation but has perked back up considerably now that he’s getting regular meals.

​The nestling red shoulder from last week was joined by his sib this week. The same people found his sib in their back yard, where they’d found last week’s baby, and this week’s was also way too thin. Last week’s reluctant eater no longer has that issue, and while his sib, who looks to be the older of the two, has a healthy appetite, he’d rather scream and bow up in threat displays than eat at the moment.

Last week’s adult barred owl with vision issues seems to be improving; we’ll wait and see. The barred sextet are still in the raptor flight; the plan is to release them either later today or tomorrow. That way the GHO trio can go in the raptor flight and the two “bee” red shoulder sibs can go in the crate that currently houses the GHOs. Sorry no current pix of any of these; it’s been a busy week and I focused more on the new intakes with photos…
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The trio of nestling woodpeckers did turn out to be red bellies, and they’ve feathered out quite nicely in just a week…

​…as have the Carolina wrens. We did lose one Carolina, sadly. They’ll just suddenly stop eating, sit in a corner, and within an hour or so, they’re dead. I’ve seen it happen so often I can almost nail down when the time of death will be, and nothing you do will change it—no force-feeding, no meds, nothing. They’re just odd little birds like that…

​The goslings have been moved outside to give them room to move around; the next step is to locate adults with babies near the same age and put these rascals out to be adopted. Geese are actually excellent parents and will readily adopt babies that aren’t theirs, but I wanted these fellows to be a bit older before we went that route, given the location they’ll be placed at.

​Many of you know I adore pileated woodpeckers, so when this gorgeous male came in with a swollen wrist, I feared the worst—a joint fracture that would necessitate euthanasia. Happily, his x-rays showed just a fractured “hand”, which should heal with no problem. Meanwhile, he’s set up with water, a log to demolish, and mealworms and suet to his heart’s content.

​This warbler (or maybe chipping sparrow…) was kept by his finders for TWO WEEKS and fed a crap diet they found on the Internet.  When I asked how they couldn’t find information telling them it was illegal to keep the bird yet they managed to find a crap diet, they claimed they “didn’t know” until recently that it was illegal, and that’s when they started looking for a rehabber. Oddly enough, they were reluctant to take the bird to either of the bird rehabbers I knew were in their area but were willing to make a day trip to get it to LWR…Hmm…Makes ya wonder, huh? 

The bird’s posture just isn’t right and he holds his wings oddly, making me suspect MBD may be at play from the crap diet. His breast and belly feathers were covered with old food, which is totally unacceptable.

As you well know by now, CLEAN feathers are a MUST for birds. Crud like this on the feathers is not only unhealthy; it will interfere with both feather development and waterproofing.
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Rather than stress the poor fellow out with a hand bath, I first offered a small dish of water to see how much of the gunk he could clean off on his own. Surprisingly, most of it came off when he took advantage of the bath water, but as you can see in the photo below, there’s zero waterproofing there.

He’ll probably go in for x-rays next week if that weird posture continues, just to see what we have going on bone-wise.

When a nest containing four killdeer eggs was in the path of a tractor, instead of simply avoiding the nest, the people stole the eggs and placed them in their chicken incubator. Let me stop right here and explain something ONE. MORE. TIME.

People, disturbing an ACTIVE nest—one with eggs or babies in it—is ILLEGAL. These people broke the law when a simple detour would have allowed Mama Killdeer to hatch her own young.

The eggs must have been close to hatching because the egg thief called LWR in a panic the morning they hatched, and it took all day to find a transporter to get them here. Killdeer are beyond simply stressy; they’re “look at me cross-eyed and I’ll die” stressy. This being the case, I wasn’t really hopeful they’d arrive in good shape or survive the night.
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They were indeed stressed when they arrived.

​But once they found their foster mama, they nestled right down under “her” and got quiet—well, as quiet as killdeer ever get. Thus far the sweet, paranoid little things are doing well, but killdeer and I don’t have the best history, so I kinda tiptoe around them with bated breath and crossed fingers…

This gorgeous late second-year red tail was found in a parking lot and, upon intake exam, was found to have what felt like a nasty wing fracture. I wasn’t hopeful we had something we could work with here, but she’s got the BEST personality—and that’s saying a lot, because red tails generally do have good personalities.
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She was also one of Friday’s vet visitors, where I was delighted to see on her x-ray that while the fracture is pretty displaced, it’s close to mid-bone and Peggy and I agreed that given her personality, it’s worth seeing how this heals. If she can’t fly properly after it heals, I’m going to do my level best to place her somewhere as an ed bird.

And while I was trying to work on this between feeding birds, two more birds came in, but ya know what? You can find out about them next week! I've been at this update long enough!

It was a busy week at LWR, as baby season kicks into high gear and the injured adults keep arriving, as well…
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This nestling Eastern screech owl was found three days before it was brought to LWR, and fed worms the entire time. While screeches can and do occasionally eat frogs, crickets, and even worms, their main diet is rodents and small songbirds—and given his young age, these are the foods his parents would have been providing, to ensure he got the vitamins and minerals needed for healthy bone growth. He’s got a healthy appetite and already has that screech “I’m a T. Rex” attitude firmly in place.

A couple of days later this adult red-phase screech was found by the roadside, apparently hit by car. Kudos to the volunteer transporter who carved a four-hour round trip out of her day to pick up the bird from people who could have delivered it to LWR in about a 90-minute round trip but refused to.
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His left eye is a bit bloody but that should heal; the right is crusted and swollen shut but looks to be intact. Basically, he just had a major concussion and needed a safe space until he could get rid of that nasty headache.

​And then a third screech, another adult red phase, came in the next day, also HBC. He was in worse shape, unable to even stand for long. Nothing is broken and his eyes are clear; he just has a massive concussion. He’s actually feistier today than the bloody-eyed fellow, although he’s not eating as well yet.

​These adorably awkward hatchling woodpeckers whose eyes hadn’t even started opening when they arrived were victims of a tree removal service. Tree removal and pruning services are supposed to check for active nests before cutting/pruning, but few actually do—the almighty dollar takes precedence over the lives of wild babies. We won’t know exact species for a while yet, but I’m pretty sure they’re either red-headed or red-bellied—at this age they look and sound pretty darn similar!

​The mourning dove and two red-bellied woodpeckers in the songbird flight have been released, as have the mockers.  No sign of anyone except the woodpeckers, who are almost as bad as blue jays about hanging around and begging for handouts.

​The brown thrasher took a bit longer to leave but he’s out now, too, and pretty darn independent. 

​The cardinal is in the songbird flight now.

The grackle didn’t make it; he was somewhat neurological when he came in but as nothing was physically damaged, I put it down to mild trauma from the fall from his nest. Apparently there was more going on; it got progressively worse despite everything possible being done to counteract it, and he lost the battle early in the week.
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The barred owl sextet have passed their live prey test and will be released as soon as we have three consecutive days with low/no rain predicted. We desperately need the rain that we’re getting right now, though, so a “rain delay” in their release suits me just fine.

The plan was for the adult barred from last week to spend some time with the juvies, rebuilding his flight strength before release, but despite being alert, active and eating well, he died between his morning and evening meals late in the week, and another adult barred was DOA a few days later.
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Once the barreds are out, the GHO trio will go in, and they’re chomping at the bit for a little “wing room.”

The leg trap GHO is still showing no signs of improvement in that permanently splayed foot; he cannot flex it at all. I don’t want to give up on him yet but it’s looking less and less like a release is in his future.
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The goslings are happy, messy, growing little waterfowl. I can’t believe how much they’ve shot up in just the past week!

When a lady noticed one of these Carolina wrens out of the nest and checked it, the nest had been wrecked and the other babies were also scattered, with no sign of the parents. It was near dark so she put them back in the remnants of the nest for the night, in hopes the parents would return. They didn’t, so she brought the nestlings to LWR. They’re stressy little birds and were used for show and tell before arriving at LWR, so we’ll see how that affects them long-term. Thus far they’re doing well.

Folks, when you find orphaned, injured or ill wildlife, PLEASE understand that it is already stressed to the max, and you do NOT need to add to that stress by having all the neighbors over to see your latest find, dragging it around to show off to the neighbors, or using it as show and tell for schoolchildren. Place the wildlife in a safe, quiet space, on low heat if you have unfeathered/unfurred or not fully feathered/furred babies, and CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY. Do NOT attempt to feed unless you’ve been told what and how to feed by a wildlife rehabber—and do NOT wait 12-24 hours or longer to contact a rehabber. That bird/animal’s very existence is now in your hands, and in order for it to have the best chance at survival, you need to get it to a rehabber ASAP. No delays!
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This poor Carolina wren nested over someone’s door and even though they knew the nest was there, they continued to use the door.  She flew into their house when they opened the door after dark and she got spooked. She flew into their ceiling fan, and it killed her; she was dead on arrival. 

​Sadly, she also had three eggs in the nest, which I asked be brought along with her when I thought she might be savable, as the callers indicated they thought only her wing was broken. The eggs were stone cold upon arrival but a quick candling as I moved them from the nest to heat indicated they might be viable if they weren’t too long without heat. We’ll know in a few days if they start to show signs of further development, but I’m honestly not too hopeful…

​People, if you have a nest near/over your door and you know it's there, PLEASE, for God's sake, DON'T USE THAT DOOR until the babies fledge. Surely your house has more than one door, and yes, it might be a little inconvenient to use the back door rather than the front or vice versa for a few weeks, but you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you did your part to help wild parents safely brood and raise their young.  A little inconvenience for just a few weeks can make the difference between life and death for wildlife. Humanity does enough to screw up Nature; give these birds the space and safety they need to raise their young!
 
Four raptors came in Saturday from Libby Carey, mammal rehabber in Lowndes County, via volunteer transporters.
 
This HBC barred owl has no apparent injuries and seemed very alert and aggressive on intake, so I figured it’d be okay to stick him in the raptor flight with the barred sextet. 

​Oh no. No, the cool teen club did NOT appreciate my placing an old fogey in with them. They clustered at one end, making their displeasure known quite vocally, while he sat on the ground and made no attempt to fly. Based on the way the flash reflected off his eyes, it appears he’s actually blind, so he’s back inside. Sometimes blindness in head trauma victims is temporary; we’ll give him some time to see what happens.
 
This young red shoulder—or maybe Coop; at this age it’s sometimes hard to be sure, but he sounds like a red shoulder—is too small to be out of the nest but was found on the ground with no parents in sight. He’s a very stressed little fellow and must be force-fed.

​These two fledgling red shoulders were kidnapped by a well-meaning beekeeper, according to Libby. He was convinced they’d been stung by his bees, although Libby’s initial triage and my exam on intake at LWR showed no evidence of this.

​People, really, if a rehabber says put the birds back where you found them, please do so immediately. There’s no reason for these two birds to be in rehab except an overzealous person refused to accept a trained individual’s assessment that the birds were fine, had not been stung and would not bother his bees…
 
And just this morning, a caller reported rescuing a “baby” blue jay from mobbing robins the previous evening. The robins apparently had the jay down and were attacking him, so she shooed them away and placed the jay in a safe location. This morning his parents were around but so were the robins…and an outside cat…for the bird’s safety, it seemed best for him to finish fledging at LWR.
 
When she showed up with the bird, however, he turned out to be an older fledgling who isn’t real happy about being at LWR. Still, better here than ripped apart by someone’s free-roaming cat…

​Again, folks, especially during baby season, an outside/free roaming cat is a death sentence to nestling and fledgling birds. The nestlings can’t escape at all; the fledglings don’t fly well and haven’t developed the sixth sense for danger that an adult bird will have—they’re still relying on their parents to alert them to danger, and if the parents are off seeking food for their newly-fledged young, they can’t alert them to a marauding cat.
 
Bottom line—and repeat it with me; you’ve heard it often enough: keep cats indoors for their own safety and that of the wildlife around your yard!