…in about equal measures this week, actually. The big news is that Igor the crow has been released, so this will almost be the Igor edition, with pix and flix of him in the flight pen and on his own. I don’t think any of the footage of him requires explanation, so…

The barred owl with the broken wing was also released, and I’m still kicking myself about this one: I had the camcorder trained on him, got some really good footage, and then reached for the still camera…as he flew away deeper into the woods. If I’d kept the camcorder on him another 10 seconds… AAAUUUGGHHH!!! Oh well…live and learn, right?

This cat-attacked house finch was mortally injured, but even if the injuries had been slight, she had “finch eye,” mycoplasmic conjunctivitis. While it is treatable, it also recurs frequently and is highly contagious to other birds, especially other finches. There’s still a lot of debate over treatment versus euthanasia for birds with “finch eye.” My policy is euthanasia, because if it’s treated and the bird is released, when (and it’s usually when, not if) it recurs, who knows how many other birds it will infect before dying itself? “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…or the one.” (Spock of Vulcan, Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan)

Screech owls are incredibly cute at any age. This little guy is young; he’s still got a “fuzzy” head. He was found in the road with a massive concussion. Whatever vehicle whacked him took off feathers above his left eye, which was swollen nearly shut when he came in, and he’s got a nasty bruise in that bald patch, too. He’s looking some better today and is slightly more alert, but he was so out of it when he first came in that I honestly wasn’t sure he’d survive the night. Both pupils respond to light stimuli, so hopefully there’s no damage to his vision.

And in the “cuteness way out of proportion to size” category, we have this adorable little chipping sparrow fledgling.  She was found near a horse barn, flopping on her back and unable to stand when righted.  An exam revealed nothing broken, although the muscles in her right leg did look a little irritated.  Today, two days later, she’s perching and flitting around her little enclosure, but had she remained where she was found, she would have been easy prey for just about everything. Thank you to the people who drove over 3 hours round-trip to get this little darlin’ to safety. 

Honestly, one of the amazing—and often frustrating and exasperating—aspects of wildlife rehab is that there is no routine. I mean, sure, you have the current residents to feed daily—that’s a routine of sorts. But how many, how often, and what to feed—that’s where part of the lack of routine comes in. Now, add to the mix random phone calls that may or may not result in another intake or intakes, meaning you may or may not need to scramble to prepare heat, meds, additional food and caging—all while ensuring the current lot get fed and medicated on schedule…all done on minimal sleep, whatever food can be gulped on the run, and sometimes questionable personal hygiene…small wonder we rehabbers often look frazzled, discombobulated, and somewhat frightening to the average person—I’m sure I’m not the only rehabber who’s caught a glimpse of her reflection after a long, sticky day and uttered a startled squeal until she sheepishly realized that vagrant was actually her!

Despite the long days, frequent heartbreak, and even more frequent desire to throttle some well-meaning but clueless idiot, there are rays of sunshine. Like this week. Last week, if you recall, I was *ahem* NOT in a good mood. This week, despite even less sleep (I managed one night with 4 hours’ sleep; most were 2-3 hours, and one was a measly hour), I’m in a somewhat better mood.

Why?

Releases! Releases always make all the insanity worthwhile.  The older blue jay, the cardinal, both Carolina wrens, and two of the red bellies are now taking their rightful places in the big, wide world!

Yeah, it’s a bit like a scene from The Birds every time I go out, but how can I not smile when I look at those birds and realize that they’re “my” babies?  Watching them fly freely through my yard and strafe me for a handout…yeah, that’ll put a smile on your face!

Not all is sweetness and light in the LWR B&B, of course. The hummer will never be releasable, and given a hummer’s usually short lifespan in long-term rehab, as long as he’s eating and reasonably active and happy, I’ll just let him live out those few weeks in safety and comfort.

And the third red belly and younger blue jay are looking less and less like they’ll ever be releasable. Neither can fly properly; the blue jay’s feet are still causing perching issues; neither will even attempt to self-feed. I’m giving them every opportunity I can, but I also know they’re living on borrowed time. I expect to make the call on them later this week.

Making the call on these two birds was less difficult: the red shoulder hawk’s leg was shattered just above the knee, and the martin’s wing was broken and it was already on the way out from loss of blood from two deep puncture wounds in its side. (And yes, those are maggot eggs, and yes, that’s why I seldom eat rice during the summer…)

Saving the clown for last, we have two theories on Igor’s apparent wing injury last week. One is that he strained it flying in place so vigorously on his perch; the other is that he was deliberately trying to freak me out—and don’t you think for an instant that a crow won’t mess with your mind, given half a chance!

Igor will be headed for the flight pen this week, probably Monday, and I can’t wait to watch his reaction to having glorious room to really stretch his wings and fly properly! He’s needed to be out there for a week now, but I had to clear out the smaller birds first. While I adore crows, I’m also very aware that they’re bullies to smaller birds, so Igor will have no buddies in the flight pen with him—less fun for him, perhaps, but safer for the smaller birds.

It’s late in the season, I’m exhausted, my house could easily be declared a disaster area, and it’s been one of those weeks that has me counting the days till the end of August, when baby bird season will begin to taper off. Every year it comes to this: I try to do too much with too little (time, money and sleep) and end up frustrated and questioning my sanity and my ability to continue…Being a fan of alliteration, I describe this as my “sleep-deprived, surly and stupid” phase.

I have birds in the flight pen that need to be released, but the rain won’t stop. I have birds in the house that need to be in the flight pen, but the rain won’t stop. My flight pen is a sodden mess, and the rain won’t stop…And I’m trying really hard not to complain about the rain—even after the branch across the road from my house briefly overflowed its banks and streamed across the road into my yard, which is already a swamp since THE RAIN WON’T STOP—because after several too-dry summers, Georgia needed the rain to replenish the ground water levels.

Adding to that, the bread-fed mocker from last week didn’t make it, one of last week’s Carolina wrens died, the “snowshoe” blue jay’s feet don’t seem to be straightening out and he doesn’t appear to be able to fly, and Igor the crow’s right wing was perfectly fine at lights-out last night and is drooping badly today, although I can’t find a break or any reason for the droop.

Wanna scream? Me? Actually, no. I’d settle for about 12 hours’ uninterrupted sleep…Then maybe I’d feel up to dealing with all the routine rehab events that suddenly become magnified out of proportion when you’re chronically sleep-deprived, leaving you feeling ineffective and ineffectual—and there is a difference between the two words; check it out if you don’t believe me. (See? Even in the midst of a sleep-deprived whine-fest, I can still find time to improve your vocabulary/grammar!)

*sigh* On to this week’s mayhem…

This barred owl’s wing isn’t fractured too badly and he’s eating well, so he should be an excellent candidate for release in a few months.

A young lady was sitting in her yard when she heard a crash and turned to see a limb disintegrate as it hit her swing. Unfortunately, these red bellied woodpeckers were in a nest cavity in that limb…and they were mere days away from fledging…

After a few days inside, to make sure they trusted me enough to accept supplemental feedings, I moved their new “nest” into the flight pen to allow them to “fledge” as naturally as possible. The video below is a record of the hesitation, false starts and, for one baby, outright refusal to leave the nest!

Hummers can be problematic. This little guy was still gaping inconsistently and sipping from a syringe, as well. His wings were level, but he didn’t seem to be able to fly. I chalked it up to being too young and having fallen from the nest too early. That is, until he dropped dead in the 20 minutes between feedings less than 24 hours after intake. Now, I don’t know…he was alert; he ate well; his poop looked good…I dunno…

This hummer, who came in today, has an obvious wing injury, probably a fracture. He also refuses to gape, won’t sip from a syringe and won’t self-feed. This means I’m having to force feed, which is not only exasperating when I’m already feeling overloaded, it’s also a tricky procedure with a beak that tiny and delicate.

Another barred owl also came in today, not as lucky as the first. This young one’s right leg and wing are both pretty much trashed. He and I will be making that final vet visit tomorrow.

The remaining two Carolina wrens are ready for the flight pen.

Another Carolina wren hatchling came in Friday. His little eyes started opening yesterday.

The cardinal is in the flight pen now, along with the older blue jay and the blue grosbeak...and the red bellies.

And because I know some of you don’t like graphic photos of injuries, I’ve put this next intake last. Scroll quickly past the photos if bloody messes make you ill.

When a caller said he had an injured hawk and there was blood, my first thought was an open wing or leg fracture. I met the finder and when he opened his truck door to reveal a largish first-year female red tail sitting unrestrained in the passenger-side floorboard, my immediate reaction was to open my mouth to lecture him on safe transport. That is, until I saw the nature of her injury and was stunned into silence.

She had apparently been hit by a car and her crop was ruptured. I honestly couldn’t tell what bloody bits were food falling from what had been a full crop and what was the crop itself. I could actually see the vertebrae in her neck in the gaping hole in her throat. Her right foot was balling, and her poop was black and tarry. Basically, this gorgeous lady was done for.

I called Smalley’s Animal Hospital to alert them that I was on my way with an emergency euthanasia. Vets Peggy Hobby and Richie Hatcher both cringed when they saw this otherwise gorgeous and fairly well-fleshed bird’s mangled crop. There was nothing we could do but end her suffering.

I’d say here’s hoping this week’s better, but it’s already gotten off to an unpromising start with the second hummer and second barred owl…

Welcome to the world of wildlife rehab. I wish it was all cute and cuddly and fun like people seem to think it is. The sad reality is that this week is more typical than any rehabber would like to admit…and weeks like this overshadow the ones where we have savable wildlife or successful releases. I can promise you, when we finally drop into bed, dead-tired, and still can’t sleep, it’s the weeks like this that replay over and over in our minds…That’s why when people ask me why I rehab, my immediate response is one word: insanity.

No Fourth-related pun intended; it just seems July is gonna compensate for a slower than usual June.  Been a weird, sorta topsy-turvy year anyway, so why not?

Last Sunday evening I got in a single pre-fledgling cardinal, apparently female. The next day, I got in a pre-fledgling male cardinal at about the same stage of development but from a different area. The little female was vocal, alert and hungry from the get-go; the little male less so. You can see the contrast between their behaviors in the video clip below.

We struggled with the male for several days before he finally decided to check out of the LWR bed & breakfast. At one point, I really thought I had him on the road to eventual release with the female, but then he relapsed.

The same day the first cardinal came in, I also received an adult Mississippi kite from a regional game warden. He and some other game wardens found it grounded and bleeding on one of the Wildlife Management Areas (WMA). The bleeding wasn’t from an open fracture, although the wing was broken. It was a fresh injury and still swollen, so I wasn’t sure how bad the break was. The next morning I took him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital where, since the swelling had gone down considerably overnight, vet Peggy Hobby found numerous additional fractures without even needing an x-ray. Basically, the bones of his wing were shattered—palpably so. We had no choice but to euthanize.

The crow, whom my niece dubbed Igor when she was visiting for the Fourth and helping me feed, continues to develop nicely. It’s now my opinion that he fledged too early and that was the reason he was unable to fly. He’s just now started to “fly in place” on his perch as he tests and strengthens his wings for real flight. Typical corvid, Igor is alert, inquisitive and talkative. I’m doing a pretty good job of imitating whatever he’s saying and he seems happy with my “replies”, so I guess I’m not tossing insults at him!

The person who brought me this hit-by-car (HBC) mud turtle was concerned that he’d get hit again. His wounds were actually old and already healing nicely, so all I needed to do was clean him up a bit, medicate the shell wounds to be on the safe side, and release him after a 24 observation period.

My sweet little blue jay suddenly developed foot problems. His feet started turning inward and “drawing” like a stroke victim’s hands. I refuse to allow this bird to end up unreleasable after coming in as a 2-day old hatchling and making it to this point, so I rigged him some “snowshoes” that force his feet into the correct position. It’s making a huge difference in his activity level: when his feet started drawing, he started just sitting in the nest and not even lifting his little butt to poop. Now he’s hopping, albeit awkwardly, all over his carrier and even attempting to perch…which, of course, is an exercise in frustration for him right now!

When this little hatchling came in on the Fourth, I really didn’t think it would last the night. To my surprise and delight, it was not only alive but gaping and peeping for food the next morning. Unfortunately, as the day wore on, it stopped gaping first, then stopped peeping, and finally died in the short interval between its 2:00pm and 2:20pm feedings. I have no clue what the sweet, sad little baby would have grown up to be…

Yesterday, yet another mocker came in. This one had been part of a nest of three babies, but the people who found them on the Fourth fed them nothing but bread soaked in water for two days. By the time they called me, one was dead, one was dying, and this poor fellow wasn’t looking great when I got him. Folks, a) when you find wildlife in need of help, CALL A REHABBER ASAP; b) NEVER, but NEVER feed bread—or milk, for that matter—to ANY wildlife, especially birds. THINK, people! It’s the early bird gets the worm, NOT the early bird gets the loaf of bread and gallon of milk!

Earlier today, these adorable little Carolina wren nestlings came in. They were found late yesterday in the taillight of a truck used for mud bogging—AFTER the mud bogging was over—and the finders called me to see what needed to be done to keep them alive until they could get them to me this morning. I’m happy to say they did everything I recommended and I received the wrens in good shape. Wrens are, as I’ve mentioned before, very stressy little birds, and these babies are cowering at the slightest noise right now. They are, however, less shy about eating!

The older blue jay and the blue grosbeak are still in the flight pen, awaiting a break in the rainy weather to be released. The yellow-billed cuckoo is proving to be quite an escape artist; nearly every time I feed her, I end up chasing her down after she escapes from her box and flits around the rehab room. For a bird missing part of her wing, she flies pretty darn well! As soon as she’s off her meds, I plan to put her in the flight pen, too, to see what she’s actually capable of. Below is a video of her behavior now when she’s fed—and I’m still hand-feeding because she refuses to self-feed on anything I’ve offered her thus far.