Last week was more like a May/June week than a late April one; of course, this April has already been a record-setting month in terms of intakes. While there is good news to report, it was also, unfortunately, a deadly week…
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This mature great horned owl was found as pictured below, hung in barbed wire; the finder cut the fence, leaving the barb in place, as it was too deeply embedded to pry loose.

​Upon intake late last Sunday, I realized we’d need to anesthetize the bird to even attempt removal. Moreover, there was a strong smell of infection and the owl was lethargic, so if she made it through the night, I wasn’t sure she’d survive anesthesia.  After a dose of antibiotics and thorough cleaning and medicating of the wing, she was settled in for the night. My main worry was maggots, as there were already eggs in place, hence the thorough cleaning.

​By Monday afternoon, however, the wound was crawling with maggots; they were deeply embedded in the body and wing tissue. Vet Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s Animal Hospital agreed that given the severity of the wound, the lethargy of the owl and the massive presence of maggots, the kindest option for the bird was euthanasia.

When a caller said she had ten wood ducklings, I cringed, to be honest. Wood ducklings are notoriously stressy little birds. When we met, she said she’d found them on railroad tracks near her home, not in good shape at that point, with no adults in sight. She managed to catch all of them and had them a day before calling LWR. Because they wouldn’t eat, she’d been dipping their beaks in food and water. They were not as noisy and jumpy as healthy wood ducks should be: normally the little rascals peep nonstop and can jump amazingly high.
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I provided heat and a feather duster surrogate mama for them, and after eating a bit they flocked to it and settled down for the night. I figured half to two-thirds wouldn’t survive the night, based on previous experiences with large groups of wood ducklings. 

To my dismay, all 10 died during the night.
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The next day callers reported finding an unnested Eastern phoebe. They knew where the nest was but could not reach it and also thought the nestling might be injured. Upon LWR’s intake of the little darling, their suspicions were confirmed; the poor baby had a massive bruise on its belly, which was marble-hard. Not good…

​Still, although lethargic, once rehydrated and warm, the sweet little thing did start peeping and gaping a bit, and its poop looked normal, not black or tarry, which would be a sure sign of internal bleeding. By nightfall, I was cautiously optimistic he’d at least pull through the night, but it was not to be. He died during the night.

​These two nestling mockingbirds were found near dark in the middle of a field with no trees nearby. Because it was so close to dark and mockers don’t eat at night, the finder and I agreed to meet the next morning. I explained an appropriate emergency diet until she could get them to me, and they’re both doing very well, despite the slightly older sib’s bad habit of hopping from the nest to explore his pen.

As for previous guests at LWR, the brown thrasher, pine warbler and bluebirds are all in the flight pen now. We did lose a couple of the bluebirds last week—no clue as to why. They were active, alert and gaping for food right up to lights-out, and dead the next morning. This is one of the most frustrating aspects of wildlife rehab, when an apparently perfectly healthy baby—or adult, for that matter—just keels over without warning.
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The pine warbler is flying like a champ.

​The brown thrasher, while not attempting flight yet, is mastering perching with his curved leg. When I took the barbed wire GHO in Monday, I also asked Peggy to take a look at his leg. She agreed it was never broken; this curvature is a nest injury.

​The bluebirds are adorable as only bluebirds can be and are starting to flit around low to the ground.

​The GHOs are adjusting nicely to each other and the flight pen. While the newest arrival, who’s actually the older of the two, had us worried that he might be imprinted or at least severely habituated, a week with his adopted younger sib has really wilded him up. Midweek, he actually bowed up in full-on threat display, which was a gorgeous sight to behold.

​Both owls are flying well and eating like typical bottomless-pit GHOs. Basically now, we’re waiting for the older one to totally wild up, the younger one to mature more, and both to pass a live prey test, and then they’re good to go.

Last week was fairly busy for LWR, with babies coming in, juveniles to be moved, adults to be released—and, of course, euthanasias, which are always a part of wildlife rehab.

When dedicated bluebird watchers witnessed a kestrel capture the female bluebird they knew had babies in the nest, they called LWR for advice, as the male seemed unsure what to do without his mate. Since it was late in the day when this transpired, per my advice, they allowed the babies to remain in the nest overnight, with instructions to call early the next morning if the male hadn’t resumed feeding the babies.
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The next morning the male perched atop the next box and called but didn’t feed the nestlings, so all five ended up at LWR, where they’re thriving and almost ready to fledge.

​They were joined by this gorgeous little man, a victim of last week’s nasty weather in our area. He and his sibs were actually in a nest I was monitoring, and when they all fledged on a nasty, windy, rainy morning, I was pleased to see most of them in the trees near the nest box. This little fellow, however, was sopping wet on the ground, unable to perch, shivering and quiet—making no attempt to alert his parents as to his location.

After warming up, drying off and being placed with the previous five bluebirds, he’s settled right in and seems quite content. Normally, he’d be reunited with his parents and sibs, since he’d already fledged, but I’m not seeing or hearing them, so he’s been permanently adopted by his new sibs.
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On Monday, I took the previous weekend’s cat-caught cedar waxwing to Smalley’s Animal Hospital for x-rays, which confirmed a fracture at the shoulder. There was nothing to be done except euthanize; the bird would never have flown again.

And we had a tragedy with the female red-tailed hawk. She’d been progressing wonderfully, and late Monday afternoon I walked in to feed and check on the two of them, to find her left wing drooping badly. I feared she’d somehow broken it on something in the flight pen but couldn’t figure out what.
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The next day I was back at Smalley’s, where x-rays showed an old, encapsulated pellet lodged in the humerus. It had not broken the bone on impact but had progressively weakened it, so that the more she used the wing, the more likely a break was. When it snapped, it also caused the radius to snap, effectively sealing her fate.

We had not x-rayed her on intake, a variation from our normal “x-ray everything” routine, as nothing was broken at that time. Vet Richie Hatcher and I discussed whether we would have done anything differently had we x-rayed and agreed we would have followed the same course of action, given that at that time there was no fracture and no way to remove the pellet since it was lodged in the bone. Our sole consolation is that this actually did occur while she was in captivity, as she would have starved to death very slowly had it snapped in the wild.

Obviously, any time there is suspected or confirmed illegal activity, it must be reported to the state and feds, but the frustrating thing here is we don’t know when or where she was shot, so there’s really no way to investigate the incident. I will remind everyone, however, so that you can pass along the word to friends and neighbors: Under the terms of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, injuring or killing raptors and songbirds is a violation of federal law, as is disturbing an active nest of either.

In further “keep your cats indoors” incidents, LWR received a late-nestling pine warbler and a fledgling brown thrasher, both taken from cats. When their rescuers were told that the wildlife in their yards would be safer if their cats were indoors, lame excuses and eye-rolls were the only responses. I fail to understand how anyone can claim to love wildlife or their cats while they place their cats in danger by allowing them to roam freely outside and thereby endangering the wildlife in their area. It’s just irresponsible on so many levels that it boggles the mind.

The pine warbler was uninjured but, because it had been in the cat’s mouth, required antibiotics as a safety precaution. He’s doing great and has a big appetite for such a tiny little bird.

Not the clearest video of the little fellow, but he's so tiny the camcorder has trouble focusing on him!

The brown thrasher has what appears to be a “nest injury” to his right leg, meaning the leg was broken or twisted awkwardly in the nest and healed/grew that way. At first glance it looks broken but the bone is solid and is actually curved rather than straight, leading me to believe it resulted from awkward positioning in the nest. It’s definitely affecting his ability to use the leg and foot, so we’re going to work with him and see if we can get it functional enough for release. It was likely his inability to perch that made him easy prey for the cat that attacked him, and adding insult to injury, the poor fellow was fed bread and water for 24 hours before arriving at LWR.

And that leads me to another soapbox rant: DO NOT feed wildlife unless directed to do so by a licensed wildlife rehabber. The plethora of sites out there blithely telling people how to break the law by raising state and federally protected wildlife also feature crap diets. Bread, milk, and processed meats are NOT appropriate diets for wildlife, so just DON’T. And don’t expect a rehabber to give you detailed instructions on raising wildlife; we will provide you with information on stabilizing the animals for transport and, in the case of birds, an emergency diet to tide them over for the trip to a licensed rehabber.

The only exception to the “don’t feed wildlife” rule is hummingbirds. Because of their high metabolisms, they MUST feed every 15-20 minutes. If you find a hummer in need of help, quickly mix 1 part sugar to 4 parts water and offer it to the hummer. THEN call a rehabber.

Late in the week, a lady rescued an adult great horned owl from the road in a neighboring county. Upon intake, he had no neural response at all below the neck. I explained that he appeared to have a spinal injury and that it might prove fatal. Vet Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s Animal Hospital, after examining the owl, agreed that the lack of response in his feet and wings signaled an injury that wasn’t fixable. He was euthanized.

The juvie great horned owl was joined this week by an older GHO, a transfer from Steve Hicks of Bubba & Friends. He had no GHOs at the moment; I had this one juvie.  We suspect this guy might have some imprinting going on, meaning he was raised illegally by some idiot out there. He initially refused to eat anything but small mice and wouldn’t pick them up if he dropped them—this is baby behavior that most GHOs quickly outgrow. He showed no threat response—no hissing or beak clicking—around people. He made no attempt to jump out of his box. And—and for me this is pretty much the kicker—when I took him in for x-rays, just to be sure we hadn’t missed anything, he lay on the x-ray table on his back, unrestrained, while I stretched out first one wing and then the other for x-rays. Yeah, not normal behavior at all.
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However, since being placed with my younger GHO, who’s full of youthful piss and vinegar and “teen angst”, he’s progressed to large mice that he will reluctantly pick up if he drops them, and he’s hissing at me…sometimes. But he still doesn’t fly as well as the younger bird, probably because he was confined for so long that his flight muscles atrophied somewhat.  But the juvie appears to be a good influence on him, as he’s wilded up noticeably in just under a week.

​Speaking of the juvie GHO, he and the new guy are now in the raptor flight. The juvie is loving it; he has room to really stretch his wings and fly.

And the fact that they’re in the raptor flight leads us to this cause for celebration: the red-tailed hawk who came in back in February with the wing fracture was released late last week!
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No release photos, as when he flew off, he disappeared around the bend. But I did manage a short video of his release, below.

This past week a call came in from a concerned couple who’d found a dead male bluebird wedged sideways in his nest box, blocking the entry. Based on their description, it appeared the male had been protecting his nestlings from some sort of attack.  But his body blocked the female, if she was still alive, from getting to her babies and because this wasn’t a box that opened, the couple had to pry one side of the box roof off to remove the carcass. It was 2pm when all this occurred, they said…

…And for the next SIX hours, the nestling bluebirds, who’d been without food for God knows how long, were fed moistened cat food, before LWR was contacted. Now, understand, moistened high-quality cat food isn’t the worst emergency diet, for a few hours, until baby birds can be gotten to a rehabber, BUT… there are certain protocols that MUST be followed to ensure the babies have the best chance at survival. First, they must be warm before being fed; second, they must be hydrated before being fed. Hydration is something that should ONLY be done on the advice and instruction of a licensed bird rehabber, as if it’s done improperly, the birds can get fluid in their lungs and literally drown to death without even being in water; at best, they end up with aspiration pneumonia and require medication for that. Also, cat food causes diarrhea, which can compromise already-fragile babies and create an unhealthy mess as the poor birds poop all over themselves and their siblings. The higher-quality cat foods cause fewer problems, but most people use whatever they have on hand or can get easily, which frequently isn’t one of the better brands.

Because I didn’t know how many feedings these precious birds had missed before being found, and because they were not in good shape on intake—despite the rescuers’ placing a rice sock in with them, they were still chilled and damp, plus we had rampant diarrhea going on from the cat food—I worked until 2:00 the next morning trying to stabilize them. I thought we’d rounded the corner and they had a chance, but within the next few hours, every single one of them died.
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Below are comparison photos of healthy bluebird nestlings in their box, at 4 days, and the poor babies who didn’t make it, who were about 4 days old, as well, based on their development.

The takeaway for you the readers? When you find orphaned/unnested baby birds, DO NOT feed them until you talk with a licensed rehabber. And contact that rehabber ASAP—ideally within minutes of finding the birds, not hours later. The lives of those babies depend on their prompt delivery to a licensed individual.
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Early last week, an adult male great horned owl was pulled from a barbed wire fence. Surprisingly, nothing felt broken to me and the flesh, while raw, wasn’t badly damaged. Still, x-rays were required to confirm no fractures, so off to Smalley’s we headed…

​Vet Richie Hatcher agreed nothing felt broken and sure enough, the x-ray showed nothing. Pleased, Richie and I discussed the treatment plan for the raw skin and were sure the owl would be releasable in a few weeks. 

​He died that night. We still have no clue why, as the only injury we could find was to the wing, and he was being treated for that. Apparently there were other underlying issues or perhaps internal bleeding, although his poop looked normal, he was well-fleshed and his mouth and throat were clear.

​The week wasn’t total gloom and doom, though. Both red-tailed hawks are now in the raptor flight. The younger male is eating normally again and flying quite well. He’s looking at release pretty soon.

​The female, while showing improvement, still favors her left wing a bit, so she’s gonna be a guest at LWR for a bit longer. She’s also quite an aggressive lady—likes to give massive threat displays, which are absolutely gorgeous.

​While the two hawks have pretty much agreed to remain at opposite ends of the flight most of the time, they’re not aggressive to each other and will sometimes perch near one another.

​The young great horned owl decided, upon his second go-round in the rehab bathroom, that room to stretch his wings was actually kinda nice and has been busily doing just that. As soon as the red-tails have been released, it’ll be his turn in the raptor flight, where he’ll remain until he passes the live prey test.

​And while this cat-attacked cedar waxwing was lucky that he was brought to LWR in time for the meds to work, until we get x-rays Monday we won’t know for sure whether the wing is broken. I don’t think so, but there was a lot of swelling on intake and subsequent scabbing of the puncture wounds makes it difficult to say with certainty without x-rays.

And let me say my blood boiled when he was brought to me and his rescuer admitted, “I didn’t want to leave him out for the cats to get; we have lots of cats and they bring me birds all the time.”

REALLY??? Then here’s a novel idea: KEEP YOUR CATS INSIDE!!! Folks, honestly, how many times does it bear repeating before it sinks in that cats AND wildlife are safer when the cats are INDOORS???

This handsome fellow is eating well, he’s alert, and he lets me know he’s unhappy about oral and topical meds for his cat-inflicted wound. But if the x-rays show a wing fracture and it’s unfixable, which is likely given the source of the injury, he’ll have to be euthanized—all because some irresponsible soul lets cats roam freely outdoors and blithely shrugs off their depredation.

So forgive me if I seem a little testy this week. I don’t like losing baby birds when a prompt call to a rehabber could have probably prevented their deaths, and I don’t like facing the very real possibility of putting down an otherwise healthy bird because of someone else’s lack of concern for our native wildlife.

​The first babies of spring, a nest of five house finches, came in last week after their nest was destroyed when the damaged light fixture it was in was replaced. The workers who found the nest, after the fixture had been removed and the nest damaged, called LWR but only after the finch nestlings had been without food for at least FOUR hours—and they had been sitting in the remnants of their nest in a plastic bag lining an old paint can that entire time.

First, please remember—baby birds MUST eat every 15-30 minutes. This isn’t an option; it’s NECESSARY for their survival. Four hours without food meant those babies had missed about 16 feedings.  Imagine a human baby who’d missed 16 feedings. Getting the picture now?
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These babies were so weak and cold when they came in that they’d given up even gaping and calling for food. It took a while to get them warm and hydrated enough to even start gaping again.

​Second, as I’ve stressed repeatedly in this space, birds are HIGHLY sensitive to chemicals. These poor babies had been exposed to the leeching chemicals and fumes from the paint can for four hours. Four hours of their tiny little systems exposed to toxic materials…

The general rule of thumb in songbird rehab is to attempt, as far as possible, to compensate for the missed feedings by continuing feedings as long as needed past sunset. (The parents feed from approximately sunrise to sunset.) These little finches were fed every half hour until 11:30 PM and I was cautiously optimistic they would pull through, except for the runt—I was pretty sure he wouldn’t survive the night.

Unfortunately, the odds were stacked too greatly against them; all five died later that night.
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Folks, please, PLEASE, if you find unnested baby birds, time is of the essence. Get them to a properly permitted bird rehabber ASAP—and only place them in boxes or containers that haven’t previously held chemicals. Their little systems are so fragile…

The first-year red-tail is still doing the hunger strike thing and we’ve resorted to force-feeding. I spoke with a couple of colleagues about his behavior this week, and Kathryn Dudeck of Chattahoochee Nature Center offered a couple of helpful suggestions and said she’s seeing similar behavior from male red-tails she’s getting in. Apparently it’s hormonal, as this is their breeding season, and it’s affecting this youngster even though he’s too young to breed.
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So as soon as the predicted cold snap for tonight moves through, I’m placing his stubborn feathered butt back in the raptor flight.

He’ll be joined by a second-year female red-tail, and thereby hangs a tale. We had rough—and I mean really nasty—weather move in late Thursday and hang around through Saturday morning. Late Thursday, near dark, a call came in about a downed hawk on an empty lot in town. I explained to the caller that by the time I got there it would be totally dark and too dangerous for the bird for me to be chasing it, possibly into the street, in the dark. I explained how she could attempt to capture it to get it out of the approaching storm, but she was unable to do so.

Friday morning was godawful in town, so during a break between successive bands of torrential rain and high winds, I headed to town and drove by the lot to see if I saw the bird. No sign. I called the lady who’d contacted me the night before, and God bless her, she left work and took her break to help me look for the hawk. Again, nothing, and our Good Samaritan had to get back to work.

Meanwhile, two volunteer transporters had met a third to pick up and deliver a cat-caught cardinal, so when they called to say they were nearing town, I told them where I was and when they arrived, the three of us scoured the lot. I suggested the hawk might have taken refuge from the storms in an old burned-out church building across the street, so after debating trespassing, we opted to take our chances.

As luck would have it, the people who lived next to the abandoned church were in their yard, so I walked over to ask if they’d seen the hawk. Not only had they seen it; it was around the corner of their house and they had been trying to figure out what to do about it!

While the volunteers watched the bird, I went back across the street for gloves, box and net. The hawk, a thoroughly rain-soaked red-tail, wasn’t too keen on being captured, so I ended up chasing her into yet another yard before netting her. A cursory exam after capture revealed no obvious injuries, and I had less than half an hour to get her to Smalley’s Animal Hospital for a more comprehensive exam before they headed to lunch.
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Have I mentioned lately how much I love my vets? When I called and asked if they could squeeze me in before their lunch break, they said to come on. It was just across town, so I made it with time to spare, and vet Richie Hatcher agreed that all this aggressive gal needed was an anti-inflammatory and some cage rest.

​Hormones notwithstanding, she’s inhaling food as she awaits placement in the raptor flight with the first-year male as soon as it warms back up Monday.

​While I was at Smalley’s, I asked Richie to take a look at the cat-caught cardinal, as well. Again, there were no fractures and we could find no puncture wounds, so he agreed that antibiotics and cage rest were appropriate for her, as well. She was alert and aggressive—typical cardinal.

Unfortunately, she’d been cat-attacked two days prior to her intake at LWR, so the meds were too little, too late, and she died during the night.

Cat saliva is toxic to birds, as are the bacteria in cat claws. Generally speaking, without treatment a bird will die within 24-48 hours after a cat attack—with baby birds, 12 hours without treatment is often long enough to be fatal. If you suspect a bird has been cat-attacked, please don’t delay in contacting your local songbird rehabber; that bird’s life depends on prompt treatment.
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The great horned owl is doofusing along, eating well and hissing at every movement near him. Once the red-tails are out of the rehab bathroom, we’re gonna try to put Mr. Doofus back in there and hope he doesn’t trap himself in the tub again…