Yeah, it’s a bit of a harsh assessment, I suppose, to say some people just don’t care, but what other conclusion can you draw when people allow birds to starve to death—literally—before seeking help? And contrast that with those people who, upon finding a bird in distress, immediately seek help and by their timely actions most likely save the bird’s life. Opposite ends of the spectrum, and LWR experienced both this past week.
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Last Sunday afternoon a caller reported children had found a fledgling mocker in the trash can at their church. How he got there, no one knows, but he’d managed to get himself covered with some sticky goop that they tried to rinse off before realizing it was gonna require more than a simple rinse. An adult called LWR; we met and the poor goopy mocker had the first of several baths to remove whatever residue was on his feathers. Their prompt action saved his life; he’s now in the flight pen and should be releasable soon.

​In contrast, the person who found two pre-fledgling blue jays on the ground allowed them to sit in an open box for seven hours before calling LWR; it was another three hours before they arrived. By this time they were on their way out. One already had his eyes closed and struggled to remain upright; the other could barely keep his eyes open and sat hunched in the box. They were started on fluids immediately to try and reverse the damage, but it was too little too late. Both died within an hour of intake. They never made a sound; they never even got proper food, as feeding a dehydrated bird can kill it.

​The same day the jays were allowed to starve to death, a woman’s children alerted her to nestlings in distress after seeing a dead adult bird on the ground and hearing babies screaming their heads off. She immediately called her vet, who referred her to LWR. Within an hour the birds were at LWR. Her quick action saved three Carolina wrens—adorable but very stressy little birds.

​Hot on the heels of this caring woman making sure those Caros had a chance at survival, a couple found another nest of Caros in a vehicle they bought out of town. Instead of seeking help upon finding them, they dumped them in a large box with bird seed. BABY birds—insectivores, at that—in a box full of bird seed. And there they sat all night and half the next day, with no food they could eat. One became so desperate it escaped from the box and died trying to find someone to help it.  Of the two brought to LWR, one died on the way home from pickup; the third was iffy but seems to be doing well today.

​And then we have the people who, upon having a young red shouldered hawk fall into their dog pen at 9:30 at night, immediately sought help and had the bird to LWR within an hour. Luckily, they were in the dog pen at the time he fell and were able to rescue him before the dogs got near him.

​The monitor for a bluebird nest box was dismayed to discover upon her daily check that two of three four-day-old babies were cold and unresponsive and the third was in critical condition. She indicated she checked the box at approximately the same time every day, which is what I also do with my boxes, and that the babies were fine the previous day. Unfortunately, the two unresponsive babies were DOA; the third baby died within 90 minutes of intake. In this case there was simply nothing to be done, but still, the finder did at least immediately seek help when she realized the parents had apparently been killed—bluebirds don’t abandon nests, as a rule.

You don’t have to be a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist to know that BABY birds need immediate help if they’re injured, if they’re unnested and cannot be renested, or if one or both parents are dead. Common sense should tell you that a BABY bird needs to eat often, just like a baby human, and that, like a baby human, a BABY bird cannot feed itself. Would you toss an open jar of baby food into an infant’s crib when s/he was still being bottle-fed and expect him/her to be able to eat it on his/her own? I mean, really, people. COMMON SENSE. Use it.

Aside from these studies in contrasts it was a fairly good week at LWR.
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The red-bellied woodpecker was released and is still coming down periodically for handouts.

​The common ground dove continues to grow but is slow to attempt self-feeding. Although ground doves aren’t frequent guests at LWR, the few we’ve seen have been stubbornly slow to independence, and this little one is proving no exception.

​The cardinals are in the flight pen and about ready to fly the coop, as it were. Below is a “good” photo of them along with a funnier shot in which all three were busily preening. Cracks me up every time I look at it!

​The younger screech still won’t pick up his own food, but he’ll sure inhale a mouse or two.

​The older screech’s eye cleared up beautifully—remember, he was HBC last week and his eye was swollen shut on intake—and he was released after expressing his deep gratitude for his stay at LWR—see photo below. (HEAVY sarcasm, people!)

​The GHO trio continues to—well, be goofy as only GHOs can be. The absolutely amazing news is that the youngest of the Stooges—the one with the wrist fracture that we were sure would never fly and were looking to place as an ed bird—is in fact FLYING! I first saw him go from flat on the ground to a perch; the next day I stood outside the flight and observed him flying around inside. He’s still young and learning and his uncertain flight reflects that, but both wings are fully extended and his flight is level if still a bit shaky. He’s gonna be releasable after all!

​The female house finch I thought had a broken wing turned out to have only a sprain or bruise. The second time she escaped from her limited movement box during cleaning and led me a merry chase, I decided to flight test her in the flight pen. Once I caught her again—couldn’t use the escape hatch with birds still not ready for release in there—she was released.

​The mourning dove with the puncture under her wing is healing nicely, as is the scalped cat-attack victim, whose wing turned out to have a through-and-through puncture wound in the muscle and not a fracture. Both should be good for the flight pen within a week or so, although there’s still the possibility for both that there may be ligament/tendon damage that could preclude flight.

​The younger brown thrasher is almost ready for release; the older, whose eyes are already getting their adult color, still hasn’t started growing flight feathers to replace those he broke in learning to perch with that awkward leg. Thrashers spend a lot of time on the ground, so I needed to know he could run with that bum leg, too—and boy, can he! I can’t touch him anymore.

​The bluebirds are still handleable—barely—and show some signs that the remnants of their mocker-damaged flight feathers might be slowly falling out. The sooner, the better, so new flight feathers can grow back in; I really don’t want to have to keep these babies captive until their first molt!

​And the possum has discovered, as we try various new foods with him, that he simply ADORES mealworms. What a treat for him—like candy for a child!

I cringe whenever a caller says that, because it means the bird has been fed a crap diet. Last week, I received just such a call, and I want to detail the circumstances for you here so that you fully understand why, legal issues aside, rehabbers DO NOT want you feeding wildlife unless they instruct you to do so as an emergency measure until you can get the wildlife to them.

A woman calls and leaves a message she has a blue jay and it needs help. I call back. She says, "I'm afraid I'm gonna be one of those people you hate; we've had him for 2 weeks."

Cue smoke from ears. I know the hostility is radiating through the phone and although I'm sure she didn't understand it, my shortness with her was extreme self-restraint to keep from cussing her out up one side and down the other.  Why? Because I already knew the bird was in bad shape, sight unseen.

They'd been feeding the bird boiled eggs and dog food. That's it. Another damn Internet diet. They KNEW when they found him he had one injured leg, but it wasn't until he broke the other one that day because of MBD, a severe calcium deficiency, that they decided to get help.

Two weeks with an untreated injury AND a crap diet. OH. MY. GOD. I just wanted to scream, "REALLY??? Would you allow your child or your dog or cat to go TWO WEEKS without treatment for an injury that impaired his/her ability to stand and walk?”

So we meet. I pick up the jay and immediately see the right leg is broken below the ankle.
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"Yes, it was like that when we found him."

I explain that TWO WEEKS ago that was a fixable fracture. Not now.

I look at the left leg. Swollen fracture above the ankle.
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"Yes, that happened today; that's when we started looking for help."

His chest and belly are filthy where he's been sitting in his own waste.
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"Yes, he couldn't stand up. I cleaned his paper daily."

DAILY??? Would you allow your child to go ALL DAY in the same dirty diaper? No? Well, then WHY the HELL would you allow a baby bird to sit in his own waste all damn day? HUH???
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His feather growth is stunted; the feathers are full of stress bars from malnutrition. I point this out.

"I'm severely (yeah, she really used 'severely') sorry. We didn’t know it was illegal to keep him until today. I hope you can help him."

I explain that there's nothing I can do at this point and she bursts into tears. I feel NO remorse at causing her outburst, because now I'M the one who has to take this poor, malnourished blue jay, with both legs now beyond repair, and EUTHANIZE him.

I find the statement about not knowing possession of wildlife without a permit is illegal questionable, as a quick Internet search of my own on “how to feed a baby bird" turned up, in the first FOUR results, one crap result, a vet clinic warning it was illegal and to seek help, and two rehab centers begging people to bring the wildlife to them BEFORE feeding.

Further, I ask again: If they KNEW the bird was injured when they found it, WHY wasn’t a vet consulted AT THAT POINT? I know for a fact most of the vets in that area refer either to LWR or to a wildlife center not licensed for birds that then refers to LWR.
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I debated euthanizing that night but opted to wait till the morning, so I could get x-rays, just to give you graphic proof of what a crap diet does, and so you understand the seriousness of MBD. It causes the bones to be so brittle that even the normal wing flapping in the nest that a bird does to strengthen his wings for eventual fledging causes fractures. Merely attempting to stand will break the legs. The bird is in severe pain, but you’ll never know this, as birds hide their pain well as a matter of survival in the wild. Eventually, the bird will die an excruciatingly painful death, if not euthanized first.

Below are the x-rays, courtesy of Smalley’s Animal Hospital. I circled or pointed to the fractures in both legs and wings. Vet Peggy Hobby was appalled at the condition of the poor jay and observed that on the elbow of the left wing, the joint had basically disintegrated—and we didn’t even x-ray the body to see how may ribs might have been fractured.

​THIS, people, THIS is why rehabbers get all bent out of shape when you allow arrogance, ego and willful ignorance to supersede the welfare of the wildlife and then “miraculously” discover our contact information when you’ve sealed the wildlife’s fate. WE get to clean up your mess and make the wildlife’s last few minutes or hours as comfortable as possible, KNOWING that if you’d gotten it to us in a timely manner, it would probably be a healthy, soon-to-be releasable young one. Now, the only release we can offer is death. And it’s NOT OUR FAULT but we bear the weight of pain and anguish for having to put down a bird that COULD have been helped.

Perhaps my colleague Catherine Longi in New Jersey stated it best: “Rehabbing should come with a warning to anyone considering this as a life choice.  If you don't want to hate people and feel murderous rages daily, this isn't the field for you."  

And a non-driving teen emailed just this morning with a very valid question: What do you do when you can’t drive yet but find wildlife in need of help?
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Answer: You ask your parents or another trusted adult if they’ll transport the wildlife to a rehabber. 
 
It’s impossible for rehabbers to be out picking up wildlife all day, from a financial standpoint—because we don’t get paid for what we do—and because if we’re on the road all day, who’s taking care of the wildlife we currently have under our care? For instance, in order for me to drive to Macon, 65 miles away, I’d either have to load a dozen birds into the car, stressing them out, or leave them at home with no one to feed them, also stressing them out AND starving them. Neither is an acceptable option because neither serves the best interest of the wildlife. I will, when possible, drive a short distance to meet someone—the distance I can manage between feedings, which is about 15 miles.
 
Off the soapbox now and on to updates on last week’s activity…
 
The cardinals have grown like little feathered weeds and are now ready for the flight pen. Just look at these darlings!

​The blue-gray gnatcatcher is also fully feathered now but is still a bit babyish in attitude, so she’ll stay inside a bit longer.

​Sadly, one of the ground doves died early last week; I picked him up for the first feeding of the day and he just crashed in my hand. The remaining ground dove has done some prodigious growing but isn’t quite ready for the flight yet.

​The mockers fed inappropriately before being brought to LWR crashed one by one last week, doing well at lights-out and dying or dead the next morning. This could have been lingering effects of the diet, or it could have just been the unexplainable “sudden death syndrome” that hits birds. Given that all three were fed the same diet before intake, though, I’m leaning toward lingering dietary issues.
 
A fourth mocker, fed a slightly better emergency diet for longer than the recommended 12-24 hours, is doing well and in the flight pen now. 

​The brown thrasher found with his dying sib is in the flight pen now and doing well, flying short distances and perching beautifully…and asking politely for food. Contrast his gentle “feed me, please” with the mocker’s “FEED ME NOW” above!

​The red-bellied woodpecker is good for release; we just had to wait for several days of predicted good weather after a week of near-daily rain.

​The mourning dove with the puncture wound, despite managing to rip the scab off during preening, continues to do well and has been joined by a  female house finch with a wing fracture and another juvenile mourning dove who was a probable cat-attack victim. His finders said they saw him in their yard and know that there is a feral cat roaming their neighborhood. He came in after weekend hours for Smalley’s and will be headed for x-rays ASAP assuming he survives. He’s pretty messed up: nearly scalped, puncture wound to the wing that penetrates through both sides, wing fracture…He’s on meds, so we’ll see how he does.
 
Again, folks, cats belong INDOORS. They KILL wildlife. Just last week, colleagues at Chattahoochee Nature Center in the metro-Atlanta area got in a juvenile red-tailed hawk that had been mauled by several cats; it died shortly after intake. We don’t preach “cats indoors” to hear ourselves talk, people. Keep the moggies INSIDE for their safety and that of our native wildlife!

​This adult screech owl flew into the side of a vehicle, sustaining only a concussion and an eye injury. The eye is still a bit swollen but his appetite is good, so there’s every hope he’ll be releasable. The first two photos are from night of intake; the last two were taken yesterday.

​The formerly downy screech is almost unrecognizable as the same ball of fluff that came in a few weeks ago. While he won’t pick up his food himself yet, he IS eating with gusto.

​And the Three Stooges—I mean GHOs—in the raptor flight continue to be big goofballs who haven’t figured out the live prey thing yet. Of course, the youngest shouldn’t be expected to just yet, but those older two…No matter, I’d prefer to release them all together, not because they’ll stay together in the wild but because as long as they have each other in the flight, they won’t imprint/habituate on humans. And they definitely haven’t, as the video below of the youngest fellow shows!

​And I leave you with this series of photos of the possum and a probably too-long but funny video of him eating. Gotta love a possum!

​It was a very busy week at LWR, as babies and a few adults came in from every direction. Some finders were “model citizens” in terms of seeking professional help ASAP; others doomed their rescues by attempting to “play rehabber” themselves until they’d screwed up the babies beyond help. This makes for a somewhat schizophrenic week for a rehabber: on the one hand, you’re pathetically grateful for people who do the right thing immediately; on the other, you desperately want to commit massive acts of violence against those who let their egos and misinformation on the Internet take precedence over the welfare of the wildlife.
 
However, before hopping on any soapboxes or discussing our new guests, let’s do a quick update on some of the critters from last week.
 
The bluebirds and brown thrasher with the old nest injury will be long-term guests at LWR, until their flight feathers come back in…which probably won’t be until they molt. They’d rather be free and I’d rather they were free, but without flight feathers, they’re as good as dead outside the songbird flight. The good news is you’d hardly know the thrasher ever had a problem with that leg; he’s using it like a pro.
 
The black vulture with the droopy wing did, as I suspected, have an old injury; it was not fixable, leaving us no choice but euthanasia.

​The youngest GHO has joined the older two in the flight pen, so now we have the Three Stooges out there. Let the goofiness begin!

​The possum is eating on his own now and has been moved into a larger cage, where he’ll basically have room and board till he’s large enough for release.

​The red-bellied woodpecker is now in the flight pen letting the world know he’s around. Young red-bellies never shut up. Never. How they’ve not been predated out of existence is beyond me. Still, as long as I hear his sibilant calls I know exactly where he is!

​The little screech has done some major growing over the course of a week and is now requesting—nay, demanding—that his chopped rodent be placed on the “ground” in his pen so he can eat it at his leisure. Next step is whole rodents to see how he does. I think he’ll do just fine!

​Early last week this sweet fledgling robin came in with a leg fracture and a trashed eye. His finder wasn’t sure but suspected neighborhood free-roaming dogs or cats attacked him. Because the fracture was clearly visible, vet Peggy Hobby of Smalley’s Animal Hospital and I agreed that since it was so high on the leg, rather than splint it, we’d keep the fellow confined to a nest to give it time to heal. The eye was history: apparently a tooth or claw punctured the eye orbit, hitting the eyeball itself and destroying it. Peggy and I thought with time and meds, the little guy could learn to compensate for the limited vision, as long as his leg healed properly.

​By late week, I was delighted to see the sweet bird perching—songbird bones heal rapidly. He still favored that leg a bit but had full use of his toes. The eye looked to be healing nicely, too. Then, overnight, the eye quite literally swelled almost to the size of his whole head. It looked and smelled awful—infection had set in despite the oral and topical antibiotics the bird was on. I upped his dosage and hoped for the best, and within 12 hours the swelling was significantly reduced…but his system was simply failing. This morning he was fading fast, so I ended his suffering humanely.
 
The same day the robin came in, another nestling pine warbler arrived. He was alert and eating well, with no signs of injury. He was found on the ground with no nest in sight and his finder got him to LWR within an hour of finding him. All seemed promising. But within eight hours of intake, the little fellow just died, for no apparent reason. Who knows what happened to him before he was found? We’ll never know.

F​And now, cue rant #1 (for those who already saw this on the LWR Facebook page, just skip to the next critter) …

Folks, this right here is EXACTLY why you don’t need to attempt to feed birds if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Not only is this poor bird wearing probably as much as or more than he ate; his lungs have a distinct crackle—the hallmark of aspiration pneumonia—that didn’t even require a stethoscope to hear. His finders kept him and his cat-attacked sibling for THREE days, feeding them a crap diet of cat food and eggs they “looked up on the Internet.” The diarrhea in his filthy, smelly nest looked like pure egg yolk.

I’m pretty sure the only reason LWR was even contacted was that the sib died that day. Well, DUH. How many times have you heard me say that there’s only a 12-24 hour window for cat-attack victims? The bacteria from the cat claws/saliva, untreated, in combination with being subjected to the same torture this bird suffered…yeah, I’m not surprised at all that the sib died.

I point-blank told the finder that the bird looked and smelled awful and I wasn’t sure he’d survive a bath. The reply? “Oh, I tried to bathe them but I couldn’t stand the noise.”

People, I CANNOT stress enough the importance of getting birds to properly licensed individuals ASAP. Had both birds come to LWR the day they were found, or by the next day at the latest, the sib might still be alive; this baby wouldn’t have lungs full of the same crap diet he’s wearing—and probably water from his finder’s attempt at a bath, as bathing a baby bird is also something best left to trained individuals—and he damn sure wouldn’t look like he’d been dipped in batter preparatory to being deep-fried.
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Once more: IF YOU FIND A BABY BIRD CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY. That bird’s life depends on your promptly contacting a person TRAINED to ensure it has the best possible chance at survival.

​The poor fellow survived his bath, was started on meds and was eating fairly well but failed to thrive and in fact began to decline precipitously over the next few days. By Friday, I’d seen enough. When I took another couple of birds (discussed below) to Smalley’s for x-rays, this fellow went with us and after comparing him to a healthy brown thrasher that had come in a day or so later, vet Richie Hatcher agreed that euthanasia was the kindest option; the bird was clearly not doing well, despite our best efforts. Three days of wearing his food served as a death sentence for the poor bird.

​This young mourning dove was found in an industrial building, grounded. The finder discovered the bird has a deep puncture wound under her left wing and said the building she was found in had a lot of jagged metal pieces jutting out. Given that the puncture wound was her only injury, it seems likely she flew into a piece of that metal. She’s on oral and topical meds and seems to be responding well to treatment.

​This pre-fledgling brown thrasher was found on the ground near his dying sib. Both were brought to LWR within minutes of being found, but there was nothing to be done for the other bird. Exposure and ants had already doomed him. This fellow, however, is doing well and thinks he’s older than he is. He cannot fly yet, but don’t tell him that—he thinks he’s ready for the flight pen right now!

​I actually found this young mourning dove while freshening my feeders. He was on the ground on his back, thrashing around, and I initially thought a snake had him. When I got closer I could see that wasn’t the case, but there was nothing nearby that he could’ve crashed into. Overnight observation confirmed he only had a concussion, from whatever he hit,  and he was released.

​This mature red-shoulder hawk was found grounded in a neighboring county. I thought the left wing was broken, but x-rays showed a severely dislocated shoulder. In addition, the right eye had a luxated lens that appeared to be an older injury. He was rail-thin and given the very real danger that even if the dislocation could be repaired, it might pop out of joint again while the bird was in flight, condemning him to a slow and painful death, vet Richie Hatcher and I opted for humane euthanasia.

Rant #2 begins…

Once again, people let ego take precedence over the welfare of the bird when they found this fledgling brown thrasher. For a WEEK, the bird was fed some sort of crap diet, resulting in severe metabolic bone disease, or MBD. Basically, it’s the result of a drastic calcium deficiency, making the bones so fragile that even handling the bird can break them. The bird will be in pain that increases in intensity as the disease progresses. Sometimes, if caught early enough, it can be reversed, but not in this case. The feathers on the poor bird showed clear signs of malnutrition; his legs were useless; his feet were “clawed” like a stroke victim’s hands—and when I carefully handed him to Richie to compare his body mass to that of the healthy pre-fledgling thrasher, he immediately said, “The younger bird is heavier.” That’s because the healthy bird has been getting a proper diet and his bones are strong.

Calling after a WEEK of torturing the bird and claiming to have “researched intensively” just doesn’t cut it, okay, people? If you “researched intensively”, you surely saw multiple warnings that possession of wildlife without a permit is illegal, yet you chose to ignore those warnings and feed the bird a totally inappropriate diet until you’d so screwed it up that euthanasia becomes the only humane option—and THEN a miracle occurs and you develop a conscience and the ability to locate a rehabber? I call BS. Keeping a bird you KNOW should be with a trained professional is nothing more than stroking your own ego, at the expense of the bird—and it was truly expensive; it cost him his life.

When callers said they’d found a tiny baby bird with dead sibs on the ground, they REALLY meant tiny! And kudos to these finders for doing the right thing immediately—within minutes of finding the bird, they’d called LWR; within half an hour the bird was at LWR and getting proper care.
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And just what is the bird? I think it’s a chickadee. As the feathers continue to come in, that’s what it’s resembling more and more!

Late-night calls usually signal bad news for some owl; when the late call came in about a bird that had flown into the driver’s truck window, my first thought was it was an owl. Then they described its “large mouth” and I knew we had a chuck-will’s-widow. The largest of the nightjar family, chuck-will’s-widows are often called whippoorwills in the South, but they’re a totally different bird.
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This poor fellow wasn’t in good shape; although x-rays revealed no fractures, his chest was scraped raw and the x-rays did show a large white mass in the stomach area that Peggy and Richie said could be blood. Given the paleness of the bird’s mouth internal bleeding seemed likely but the severity couldn’t be determined. We opted to give him a little more time, but the poor fellow died on the way home.

The people who found these birds took them to a vet clinic in another county, where they were identified as killdeer. When the clinic called and said they had TWO killdeer, I admit I cringed a bit. While they’re beautiful little birds, killdeer are also VERY stress and have to handled with extreme care.
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To my surprise and delight, when I opened the box containing the “killdeer”, they turned out to ne nestling common ground doves. I rarely see common ground doves in rehab, but they are typical sweet doves—just very, very small!

​A teacher in another county confiscated these mockers from a student. Despite being fed bread by the student and moistened chick starter by the teacher as she struggled to keep them alive until she could get them to LWR, they’re doing well. They still have bits of chick starter in their feathers, but at least it’s crumbly when it dries, so it’s easy enough to flake out.

Folks, bird feathers MUST be clean. Dirty feathers interfere with flight ability and in young birds, dirty feathers can cause infections.
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And finally, first thing this morning a call came in about a nest of baby birds found AFTER a bush had been cut down. The cutter didn’t think to check for nests until it was too late. Thankfully, the cutter immediately made arrangements to get the birds to LWR, despite a lengthy drive to do so. They appear to be cardinals and are eating well.

The lesson here? Always, ALWAYS check trees, bushes and shrubs for nests before cutting/trimming. Also, check your yard before mowing, as some fledglings may be on the ground, as well as young rabbits. A quick inspection before doing any yard work can ensure that you don’t unintentionally orphan or injure wild babies.

Yep, been THAT kinda week. First, for a solid week the LWR voicemail wasn’t functional but until I was notified by a caller who emailed me that he’d left a message that I had no record of, I had no clue Verizon was apparently holding my voicemails hostage. Once I was alerted, turns out I had 26 missed messages; fortunately about half were from concerned callers repeating their initial messages. After an hour and a half of tardily returning voicemail messages and apologizing for the delay, I was furious but realized it could have been worse: the wildlife toll was three birds dead because of Verizon’s inefficiency, three birds arrived at LWR today, three fledglings had been reunited with their parents, and I left five voicemail messages/texts of my own for folks who didn’t answer right away, only one of which has been returned thus far.

This makes me livid on two counts: first, the possibly preventable deaths of wildlife due to Verizon’s ineptitude; second, the damage to my professional reputation. I’m not a happy camper, not at all. Verizon claims they were migrating all their customers to a “new and more reliable” voicemail platform, to which I say “horse hooey.” If it’s so all-fired reliable, someone explain to me how 26 voicemails could accumulate without a single notification. They are VERY aware of my dissatisfaction. VERY.

Then I was informed my name had inadvertently been omitted from the list of raptor rehabbers on our current state list, so while I’ve been assured by DNR this was an oversight, given that both my state and federal permits cover raptors, and has been corrected in their files, it will be July before they update the list again…So spread the word; I am raptor-permitted and will show copies of my permits to anyone who needs to see them…
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Adding to the generally high level of frustration, the last two bluebirds, who were doing so well after their release, suddenly stopped flying, literally overnight. After watching them hang around in the old duck pen for an entire day, on the ground, I caught both and examined them for problems. Yep, they had problems, all right—somehow all their primaries on BOTH wings, for BOTH birds, had been totally trashed. 

​Given the level of aggression of the adult mockers hanging around the yard, I strongly suspect these poor babies were attacked by the mockers, breaking and pulling out their primaries. I know I’ve seen the mockers chasing the adult bluebirds.  Thankfully, because  LWR does soft releases, these two were in a place they could be monitored and brought back to safe confinement while their feathers grow back in.

​The brown thrasher, apparently expressing solidarity with his stubby-winged repeat pen-mates, managed to fall off perches several times and damage HIS flight feathers, as well, so he’ll be a guest at LWR longer than anticipated, also. He’s getting better at the perching thing, but it’s been at the expense of his flight feathers.

​There IS good news from this disastrous past week, however: the pine warbler, already mostly independent upon release, has stopped coming down for handouts. 

​All three GHOs are eating LWR into penury, and the youngest one will be flight-pen ready as soon as he starts eating larger mice and picking them up himself when he drops them. Yes, I know he’ll never fly with that jigsaw puzzle of a wrist, but he needs the room to stretch his wings, anyway. And who knows? He might just surprise us. Miracles do happen every now and then…

While I normally don’t take in mammals during baby bird season, when this little possum’s rescuer contacted LWR saying that no other mammal rehabbers she’d contacted would take possums and that he was the sole survivor after his mother had been found in the road dead, I couldn’t refuse the poor “leetle feller”. Although he was lethargic enough for concern on intake, he’s rebounded and is doing well now. Fortunately, since there’s just the one, he can easily be fed between bird feedings.

I’ve never understood the public—and even some rehabbers’—anti-possum sentiment.

Folks, please recall, if you will, that possums are very beneficial critters. In addition to aiding vultures in disposing of carrion, possums eat slugs, snails, and other creepy-crawlies you don’t want in your garden or house. They also eat snakes, including rattlesnakes, and are actually immune to rattlesnake venom. Additionally, current research indicates that because possums eat ticks—LOTS of ticks—they may play a major role in preventing Lyme Disease.
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Some researchers call them Nature’s little garbage disposals—think about the disease they help prevent by eating things you don’t wanna deal with anyway!

​And another maligned creature is the vulture. Thankfully, the people who found this black vulture realized that carrion-eaters do serve a vital role in our ecosystem and rescued him. He just came in today, so we’ll be getting x-rays on that droopy left wing tomorrow.

​This lethargic brown thrasher fledgling was most likely cat-attacked. While the wing wasn’t broken, the flesh had been stripped away from a small area on the bone. Antibiotics and fluids weren’t enough; he died an hour after intake.

​High winds last week knocked down a tree containing a nest of red-bellied woodpeckers. When they were found, only this guy had survived the fall, but he’s doing well, all things considered.

​And this little screech was also found on the ground with his two dead sibs. He’s a teensy little fellow but eats well and was fortunate to’ve been found before exposure and/or predators cost him his little life, as well.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go crawl under the bed, assume the fetal position and whimper, and hope and pray this week’s better than last week…

It’s early in baby season; the pace of intakes varies wildly from one week to the next—and a slow week is always a welcome break!

That said, it was most definitely not a slow week for the rehabs at LWR, with several releases and one major accomplishment for an “iffy” bird.
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If you’ll recall, in last week’s update vet Peggy Hobby and I had discussed the brown thrasher’s nest injury and agreed to give him time to see what might develop. He was doing well on the ground and low perches but making no attempt to get up higher. This week he perched near the highest point in the songbird flight! He’s also doing some self-feeding, so with his progress, I suspect he’ll be near-releasable within a week or so.

​The pine warbler has been released, and I was lucky enough to be in the flight when he flew the coop; see the second video below. He’s still coming down for handouts, but the amount he eats varies wildly, from mere mouthfuls to voracious gulping—depends on how much he found for himself between offered feedings!

​The bluebirds, also largely self-feeding, have also been released, after a week of gorgeous photo ops in the flight. The last two left just this morning, and although the camera lost focus toward the middle, I managed a short video of the next-to-last one leaving the flight pen—see below. Thus far, none of them have returned for handouts, which doesn’t surprise me; they were very reluctant to accept hand-feedings their last few days in the flight unless I let the mealworms and wax worms run out—didn’t need me otherwise, thankyaverymuch…

​The older GHOs are…well…GHOs. What else can you say? They’re eating well, flying well, and failed last week’s live prey test miserably. I mean bombed it totally. Both flew to the highest point in the raptor flight, eyes wide (even for a GHO), and stared alternately at their proposed prey and me as if to say, “What the…? That’s MOVING!” I left, thinking they’d be more likely to at least attempt catching their own food without an audience. Twenty minutes later, nope. No go. Wasn’t gonna happen. So…we’ll try again later!

The mockers had a lousy week. The older of the two died overnight about mid-week—was fine at lights-out and dead the next morning. The younger of the two, who showed no signs of injury on intake, is having coordination issues now that he’s out of the nest—makes me wonder if there was some sort of brain injury that didn’t show until he hopped out of the nest. The result, however, is a really pathetic-looking little bird, and constant cleaning just makes him even more pitiable, poor fellow.  No pix of him this week; been too busy trying to keep him clean.
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And late last Sunday, a very late-season (for GHOs) downy GHO came in. His finders had fed him chicken livers for two days before contacting LWR so in addition to very smelly poops, he was wearing a good bit of his highly inappropriate diet. An exam upon intake revealed that his left wing was broken at the wrist—never a good location for a fracture. 

​X-rays at Smalley’s Animal Hospital Monday morning showed that the break was worse than a mere physical exam indicated, as even the “thumb” was displaced. In an adult bird, an injury of this nature would be a death sentence, and even in a young bird, it means he’ll never fly. 

​However, because he’s young enough to be trained, vet Jim Hobby and I agreed he might have a good chance at becoming an educational bird. We’re looking to place him as an ed bird, in-state preferably. The mountain of paperwork to transfer him out of state is just not something I want to deal with, quite frankly, unless absolutely necessary.

​Disclaimer: This was written and posted while also trying to watch brown thrashers feed one of their fledglings outside my window. Yep, I’m guilty of typing and posting while distracted…