Yup. Springtime in Georgia...at least it’ll wash away some of the pollen. Maybe. I’m trying not to complain because first off, it does no good—we don’t control the weather—and second, come July or so, the constant refrain will be “we sure need some rain...”

The great horneds continue to grow apace. They’re now reluctant to be hand-fed so I’m cutting up the mice and placing them in their box for them to eat as they please, the big goofballs. Look closely and you can see the tufts that will form their “horns” starting to show!

The latest arrival is a nestling mourning dove, who came in Thursday. The finder found it on the ground after strong winds but didn’t see a nest in the tree above. Given doves’ lackadaisical approach to nest-building, this isn’t surprising. He’s eating well and growing nicely.

The red tail is SO ready to go, poor fellow. But we keep having rain delays. Things look promising toward the end of this week. (Yeah, I know—I said that last week. And they kept adding rain chances and it kept raining juuust enough to postpone releases...)

The red-phase screech in the mini-pen is biding his time, as well.

The gray-phase screech is perching now but sits huddled right up against the wall of the box and his head still droops. He CAN raise it—and will, when I put food in—but he seems to prefer hanging it down. And those constantly dilated pupils aren’t normal. He’s self-feeding, though, so he can at least see well enough to locate white mice on a white box liner. He’s made progress since last week, though, so...fingers crossed...

The next update will be a day early, on Saturday, so I can spend Easter Sunday with my family.

...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.

LWR’s first babies of the season came in on Wednesday and this morning, both great horned owls.

Wednesday a caller indicated they’d heard the grounded nestling calling the previous day but thought the parents would either feed the baby where it was or coax it into a tree. This had not happened by Wednesday morning so they retrieved the baby, who was screaming for food by this point.  They couldn’t transport it for several hours so I started calling volunteer transporters. Mammal rehabber Charydi Gambill had him to me within an hour or so, whereupon he was promptly fed as much as his little belly would hold (unlike other birds, owls do have bellies rather than crops).

Saturday colleague Kathryn Dudeck of Chattahoochee Nature Center contacted me about another young great horned, nest destroyed, dead sib next to him. She asked if I could take this baby to be an “adopted sib” to my current singleton. It’s always better to have sibs for young raptors in particular, when possible, so I agreed, and her volunteer transporter Stacy agreed to get this second nestling to LWR this morning.

The two young ones seem to’ve bonded nicely already.

Tuesday morning a lady called about an extremely docile crow they’d found in their yard. She and her husband immediately headed to LWR with the crow and about 20 minutes away she called and said the crow had had a seizure in her husband’s arms and died. They continued to LWR, and on their arrival, the crow was already in rigor. He’d pretty much been dying the moment they picked him up. He was extremely emaciated; all I can figure is West Nile—his symptoms and behavior are consistent with WNV.

The red tail has finally started flying! Yesterday I heard movement in the raptor flight and eased over to the door to peek in; he made two complete laps of the flight. We have high rain chances Tuesday-Thursday so I’m giving him a little more conditioning time before thinking about release.

And the screech is also good to go after this week’s rains move through.

Thank goodness. We need some ‘dryin’ out time.’ And our raptors in particular need some good hunting weather.

The last intake for February was a turkey vulture with a wing fracture that had already healed in the wild. Because it had not healed for flight, he required euthanasia.  Vultures are among the most difficult birds for me to euthanize because of the sheer intelligence you can clearly see in their eyes.

March began with a great horned owl pulled from a barbed wire fence. His wing was trashed and so he also required euthanasia.

A Northern flicker rescued from the roadside in a rainstorm had a fractured wrist. Had it not been an open fracture, I’d’ve been willing to see if it might have healed for flight, but open fractures on songbirds are a death sentence.

And this poor barred owl was a victim of the near-nonstop rains of February that made hunting difficult; he was rail thin and lethargic on intake and while he kept down a couple of small slurry meals, it wasn’t enough to reverse the damage. He died overnight.

Late winter/early spring tends to be a crappy time for rehabbers in terms of not being able to save wildlife. It comes in either too badly injured or too far gone from starvation or disease. This is why most of us look forward to baby season, even with its insanity—at least we can usually save the babies.

It wasn’t all gloom and doom at LWR over the past two weeks, though. Both screeches in the mini-pen were released—no videos or photos, as I simply opened the door near dusk and let them decide whether and when to leave. They were gone shortly after dark!

The red tail continues to recover nicely. He’s eating well and if I can ever see him fly, he’s good for release. Thus far, though, he shows no inclination to attempt flight. Given his miraculous improvement, from not being able to stand at all to perching, I’m willing to give him more time.

And screech 3 is now in the mini-pen and finally over his head trauma. He’s acting like a truly wild screech now and should be releasable in another couple of weeks.

Believe it or not, the chickadees have beat the bluebirds in nest building at LWR this year; the chickadee nest is nearly completed, and the bluebirds haven’t even started theirs yet!