Last week saw lots of calls, few intakes, several releases, and, of course, some deaths.
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Let’s lead with some good news, shall we? The cat-attacked bluebird, after escaping several times while I was putting in fresh mealworms for him and flying strong and straight as he eluded me, was released. Apparently it was just a badly bruised wing after all.

The flyers were released; not one hung around after the cage door was opened the first night. They were ready to “git!”
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While the red tail will still need follow-up x-rays soon, she’s in the mini-pen for now. The fresh air and sunshine have eased her antsiness a great deal and she can hop from perch to perch and from the ground to the lowest perch, so she’s happy for the moment. That wing looks as if it might not have healed quite properly, though. We’ll see…Waiting for things to return to some semblance of normal before loading her up for a vet visit.

​Tuesday night a Northern flicker came in; the couple who brought him had heard his distress call and found him behind their workshop. He had a minor neck wound but was alert and well-fleshed. I medicated the wound, started antibiotics in case he’d been cat-attacked, and put him to bed for the night. The next morning he was dead. As y’all well know by now, this is one of the most frustrating aspects of wildlife rehab—the deaths for no apparent reason. His wound wasn’t deep enough to’ve caused death; it wasn’t inflamed or hot to the touch like a snake or spider bite, and he appeared perfectly fine the night before…

And yesterday, three birds came in, a late-nestling great horned owl (GHO), a late first-year Cooper’s hawk, and an adult pine warbler.
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The GHO was another case study in frustration. He seemed alert but his mouth was white-pale—not good. His initial poop was the sort of chalky white rehabbers recognize as stemming from lack of food. However, he was reluctant to eat—definitely not normal for a GHO, especially a young one. Over the course of the day, feeding him every couple of hours or so, I managed to get five small mice in him, but his poop after the first one had me worried: it was thick, dark and tarry—the usual sign of internal bleeding. Now I began to worry that perhaps his parents had fed themselves and their babies one or more poisoned rodents, and this poor baby was the sole survivor…and he was becoming more and more lethargic. By 3:00 this morning, when I fed him his last small mouse, I was convinced he wouldn’t be alive come sunup. And he wasn’t. And it hurt my heart. 

​The Coop has an old shoulder fracture that began to callus in the wild. Although I know it’s a lost cause, I’m gonna try him in the raptor flight anyway, just to confirm for my own peace of mind that he really cannot fly, and then he’ll likely need euthanasia.

​The pine warbler’s right wing is broken, and there’s a puncture wound on top that would suggest a cat-attack. He’s on oral meds for that, but the wing itself looks pretty trashed. I can’t tell for sure; he was brought in with the injury fresh and still bleeding last night, so the swelling hasn’t gone down enough to actually do anything more than topically medicate the wing at this point. I hope I’m wrong, but it’s not looking too good for him at the moment.

Hopefully next week will prove less lethal for wildlife. Lord knows I certainly hope so…

With people “self-isolating” and whole counties going on Constitutionally questionable lockdowns, LWR  only got phone calls last week, mostly from the metro-Atlanta area, that didn’t result in intakes once they realized LWR was located a good 150 miles from them. Mind you, I’m not here to debate the pandemic panic or the legality of the measures being taken to control its spread, although I certainly do have opinions. This, however, is a page for wildlife.

That said, people are scared to be out and about right now, aside from grocery store runs to hoard all the toilet paper, so God help any wildlife in need of rehab. Even though every rehabber who’s discussed this issue has indicated they’re available to accept orphaned, ill or injured wildlife, most of us just aren’t getting the volume of calls we normally do this time of year. We’ll see how this plays out as baby season moves into high gear.

The flyers are good to go and should be headed for release next week. No photos of them this week; they’re practicing “social distancing” of their own, as they don’t come out till after I’ve turned off the rehab room lights for the night.
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The red tail could have gone in for follow-up x-rays last week, but it’d only been six weeks. We’ll give her eight and then see how things look. Fractures normally take six to eight weeks to heal. Given the precautions even vet clinics are taking these days, it just seemed better not to add to the disruption my clinic was already experiencing. So I opted to delay her follow-up for another week or two.

And the poor bluebird has been so antsy that I actually took him out to the mini-pen to see if maybe his wing had only been bruised—recall that his x-rays showed no fractures so we figured he had a coracoid fracture, which seldom shows on x-rays. Unfortunately, he was still unable to fly, so we have another couple of weeks, minimum, to give that “invisible” coracoid fracture time to heal.

​I walked him outside for a quick photo and some fresh air while I was cleaning his box.  Look at that sweet little face!

​Meanwhile, if the pandemic panic has you at home, don’t stay cooped up; get outside and get some sunshine and fresh air. Both are good for your immune system and getting outside for a while will stave off cabin fever. Here, at least, we’re getting a light rain that will settle the heavy pollen and ease allergies and hay fever so going for a walk won’t result in streaming eyes and uncontrollable sneezing!

​Temps are mild; wildflowers are blooming; songbirds are building nests—yep, it’s spring in Georgia! Yesterday there was a single straw in one of my bluebird boxes (the male takes a piece of straw into a potential nest in an attempt to convince the female it’s a good nesting site; if she agrees, she starts building the nest); today there was about a quarter-inch high ring of straw in the bottom of the box—too little to open the box fully for a photo, as the breeze would’ve carried away most of her hard work. And the other bluebird box has been commandeered again this year by chickadees; Mama Chicker’s been quite busy over the past few days and has her nest about half-completed.

​In actual rehab news, the red tail continues to eat well while she heals. She’s getting restless, too, as that wing feels better and better. We’re aiming at a vet visit for follow-up x-rays this week. If all looks good, into the raptor flight she goes.

LWR normally doesn’t take in possums, but a game warden from a neighboring county called and said Good Samaritans had gone to remove a dead possum from the road and saw feet sticking out of her pouch. They had removed nine pinky possums that he was pretty sure were too small to survive and he wanted verification and humane euthanasia if he was correct.

The survival threshold for pinky possums is 19g; if they weigh less than that, no amount of effort will save them. The rehab manuals advise euthanasia for any baby possum under 19g. When I learned that as a newly-minted rehabber nearly two decades ago, I was sure it had to be wrong; I learned from painful firsthand experience it’s correct.
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So he showed up with the nine teeny-tinies, and I knew just looking at them they were under the survival weight threshold. But I weighed every one, to be 100% sure, and their weights ranged from 6-7g—well under the survival threshold. I humanely euthanized them, and yes, it hurt like hell. Euthanizing babies is always the worst; they’ve had no chance at life.

​And this gorgeous male bluebird was rescued from a cat the evening before he came to LWR. His rescuers saw no injuries but said he couldn’t fly. An intake exam indicated a possible right wing fracture, so off to Smalley’s we went for x-rays. Vet Peggy Hobby agreed that the right wing didn’t “feel” right but the x-rays showed no fractures. Given that coracoid fractures don’t always show on x-rays and are especially hard to see in songbirds, we’re guessing that’s what we have with this unhappy fellow. 

​A coracoid fracture is essentially like a broken collarbone in humans. It can’t be splinted; he just needs cage rest for a few weeks to give it time to heal. And, of course, since he was cat-attacked, he’s undergoing a round of antibiotics, as cat saliva is toxic to wildlife.

​Once again, y’all, say it with me: “Cats belong INDOORS for their own health and safety and the health and safety of our native wildlife.”

Anybody else remember that old expression? Well, I put action to those words late last week when the first of four glorious, rain-free days arrived. Five birds regained their freedom—and, as many of y’all already know, Sisyphus the kestrel is now in his new home. So all in all, it was a great week, despite insane rain amounts early on.
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A third barred owl came in late Monday and was also one of the five releases on Saturday: three barreds, the Coop and the screech. Only the screech hung around long enough for a post-release photo, and he’s actually the only one I didn’t manage a decent release video of, so that balanced out nicely. The release videos and the screech’s photo are below.

​And with what seemed like record speed, Beth Thomson of Blue Ridge Raptors received both her federal and state approval for Sisyphus’ transfer in the same week, so she was able to pick him up Thursday and reports that he’s adjusting well to his new home and being trained for his new role as an educational ambassador for his species.

​The red tail recovering from the wing fracture has finally realized she’s not gonna starve to death in rehab and has cut back to a mere two large mice a day. In another week or so, she’ll be due for follow-up X-rays to see how that wing’s healing.

​And this is what I see when I feed the flyers at night:

Finally, with baby season already beginning for mammal rehabbers and not far off for bird rehabbers, let me hop on my soapbox and remind you that rehabbers rely on the public to get wildlife in need to them; we cannot go out and pick up the wildlife. I actually had someone argue last week that asking the public to transport wildlife to a rehabber is like asking them to extract wreck victims from a car and transport them to a hospital, rather than calling an ambulance. I initially said this was not an apt analogy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it’s not totally inaccurate.

Ambulance drivers transport their patients to treatment facilities (hospitals) where they are cared for by trained, PAID professionals—the doctors and nurses—who do NOT drive all over the place, loading up and transporting their patients to their facilities. They wait for the ambulance drivers to do this. Therefore, the wildlife finder/transporter serves as the "ambulance driver," transporting to wildlife rehabbers’ homes, which serve as the treatment facilities for our "patients." Wildlife rehabbers are trained, UNPAID professionals, outside large centers, which are few and far between. And just try calling any of those large centers with paid staff and see if they’ll hop right in their cars and come pick up your wildlife. I promise you, they’ll give you the same reply we home-based folks do—no can do.

Most of us are, in fact, home-based and have paying jobs to support our rehab efforts and keep the lights on. We can’t be on the road picking up the wildlife all the time; it’s a logistical impossibility. For example, with just 12 songbird rehabbers and 11 raptor rehabbers in the entire state of Georgia (per our latest list), those of us in the state cannot pick up all the birds we get calls about. If we're on the road picking up birds—or squirrels or rabbits or deer, for my colleagues who rehab mammals—when are we supposed to take care of the ones we already have in rehab?
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We will gladly walk anyone who calls through what they need to do to get wildlife secured and to us; we will refer them to volunteer transportation networks when the sheer distance requires it; we will refer to closer rehabbers when possible. Work with us on this; we want to help the wildlife you’ve found, but we cannot pick it up. Driving it to us is maybe an hour out of your day to bring us a bird or mammal that will require days, more often weeks or months, of round-the-clock care from us. Surely you can spare that measly little hour to do the right thing—the HUMANE thing.

Do y’all know how hard it is to come up with headlines about the rain that aren’t stultifyingly repetitive? We had a brief three days of no rain, but it remained too wet to get anything released. And now the rain is slated to start again…for most of next week…Anybody got any gopher wood to donate toward the ark?
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Last week wasn’t a good week, quite frankly. If you recall from last Sunday’s update, LWR had a turkey vulture come in with a leg fracture. I’d said he was slated for a vet visit ASAP. Well, Monday afternoon he got his vet visit, and it was bad news all the way. The poor bird had TEN pellets scattered throughout his body, including one in his eye, the leg was broken and there was an old healed-in-the-wild shoulder fracture that would have effectively grounded the bird, which is probably why some jackass filled him with birdshot.

Because of the sheer number of pellets and the fact that the poor fellow was already showing neurological signs of the inevitable lead poisoning that would result from so many pellets, vet Peggy Hobby and I agreed euthanasia was the kindest option.

And because he’d been injured as a result of illegal activity, both DNR and FWS had to be notified. It’s frustrating for all concerned because we know without eyewitnesses, no case can actually be made. Still, rules is rules, and at least both agencies know some jackass is taking potshots at raptors in the county where the vulture was found.
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Adding to the general “Mondayness” of the day, a local mammal rehabber picked up and transported a weak and lethargic adult female red tail to LWR. She had multiple issues: emaciation, early stages of frounce and, I was afraid, rodenticide poisoning. I loaded her up along with the turkey vulture in hopes she wasn’t too far gone. Unfortunately, she had two seizures in the vet clinic waiting room—and we didn’t wait long—and died.

​Y’all, let me get on my soapbox here: rat poison is deadly to more than just rats and mice. I don’t care if you’re using bait boxes—you do know the rodents eat the poisoned bait and then run back outside the bait box, as they’re not designed to trap the rodent they’ve just poisoned. As it bleeds to death internally, it becomes sluggish and easy prey for a hungry raptor, who then becomes a secondary victim of the poison—and, in even more horrifying instances, takes the poisoned rodent back to a nest of hungry babies, who then also die from rodenticide poisoning.

In short, DON’T USE THE CRAP. And don’t use glue traps, either—they also snag unintended victims like songbirds, lizards, bats and snakes. Use snap traps, humane traps (if you want to take the captured rodents far into the woods away from your property) and general hygiene, i.e., pick up your trash and don’t leave pet food sitting outside—and yes, even bird feeders will attract rodents, so you may want to bring them in at night. My preferred option would be, where possible, to place some owl nesting boxes to attract barn owls. One barn owl can eat a thousand rodents a year—imagine having a family of them on “rat patrol!”

In happier news, today the bumblesome Coop finally got it together enough to perch for the first time since intake. In another week or so, he should be good to go.

​The barred owl is ready for release but rain-delayed—well, actually soggy-release-site-delayed last week and a further rain delay this week. But he’s good to go as soon as the weather cooperates.

​The screech is also ready for release—ditto the above statements; meanwhile, he’s obviously got a PhD in stink-eye!

​And the red tail recovering from the wing fracture is, quite frankly, just a gorgeous gal. I confess to being just a wee bit besotted with her, but then, who wouldn’t be? Just look at her!