...which, of course, means delayed releases. Shame, too, ‘cause the red tail is rarin’ to go. This morning he flew a complete circle around me in the raptor flight, and then went ‘round again, landing on two different perches, then the ground, then back to a perch, where he gave me a smug look, as if to say, “Look lady, lemme outta here now!” I remain amazed at his recovery; honestly, when he came in I didn’t hold out much hope but something in his eyes convinced me he still had fight—and boy, has he proved me right: from unable to stand, spread his wings or flare his tail to flying and perching like he’d never had a problem at all!
The red-phase screech is physically ready to go but something is still just...not right. I can’t quite put my finger on it but my gut says we need to hold off on his release—like there’s really a choice with another rainy week...
The great horneds are doing great. So far I’ve managed not to be sucked into the great gaping vacuums that comprise their mouths. No joke, these rascals eat 3-4 medium mice EACH per feeding. And as they mature, that amount will increase. I’ve nicknamed them Bottomless and Pit.
Yesterday a call came in about a baby owl and this being baby season for great horneds, I figured we had a brancher on the ground. I asked the caller to text a photo of the bird so I could gauge age and determine whether we needed to intervene or leave him on the ground for his parents to feed. Turned out it was an adult screech, gray phase. And he didn’t look good in the photos.
When the callers arrived with the screech, his intake exam revealed a swollen right elbow with some dried blood on the back of the wing, and he was a bit on the skinny side. His pupils seemed sluggish, and he acted dazed and confused, dropping his head to his chest as if he also had head trauma.
I started antibiotics after his rescuers mentioned seeing a stray cat near the screech; he may not have been cat-attacked but better safe than sorry. Given that his injuries seemed fairly recent, I wasn’t sure he’d eat—it’s not uncommon for concussed raptors to go 24-48 hours without eating—but I offered a mouse anyway. Within a couple of hours he’d eaten most of it, and this morning he’d eaten the better part of a second mouse I offered last night, so his appetite is good. We’ll see how he fares over the next few days.
When the callers arrived with the screech, his intake exam revealed a swollen right elbow with some dried blood on the back of the wing, and he was a bit on the skinny side. His pupils seemed sluggish, and he acted dazed and confused, dropping his head to his chest as if he also had head trauma.
I started antibiotics after his rescuers mentioned seeing a stray cat near the screech; he may not have been cat-attacked but better safe than sorry. Given that his injuries seemed fairly recent, I wasn’t sure he’d eat—it’s not uncommon for concussed raptors to go 24-48 hours without eating—but I offered a mouse anyway. Within a couple of hours he’d eaten most of it, and this morning he’d eaten the better part of a second mouse I offered last night, so his appetite is good. We’ll see how he fares over the next few days.
RSS Feed
