It was a slowish week, which I never complain about. Rehabbers learn to appreciate downtime whenever it occurs.

A barred owl, hit by car, came in Monday morning, and his wing faced backward but wasn’t an open fracture. I knew this was a “euthanasia fracture” but wanted to see just how bad the damage was—call it morbid curiosity. An x-ray revealed that the bones were completely separated at the joint—it wasn’t dislocated, the fracture was literally right in the joint. ​

​The red tail who’d flown through the window also went to Smalley’s on Monday, where vet Peggy Hobby said the cornea wasn’t actually as bad as I’d thought. It was lacerated and swollen but the laceration had already sealed, so he’s on medicated eye drops for a while. The eye, while still cloudy, is noticeably less swollen and not as cloudy as when he came in. Compare the first photo, from last week, with the one below it, taken just yesterday.

The poor little cat-caught flyer struggled for five days. He must’ve been the runt of his litter. He constantly threw up his food—and he wasn’t eating near enough, anyway—he stayed dehydrated despite rehydration efforts, and he just generally wasn’t doing well. It was no surprise, therefore, when I walked in for his second feeding Thursday and found him dead.
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Then, Saturday, a lady brought a crow to LWR. Based on her description, I suspected West Nile virus in its advanced stages. When he arrived, my suspicions were confirmed. He was rail thin, couldn’t stand at all, and was too weak to even keep his eyes open for long. I started a thin slurry every few hours to see if he’d rally, and he seemed more alert at bedtime but it was too little, too late. He was dead this morning.

West Nile (WNV) isn’t contagious; animals (including humans) get it from being bitten by mosquitoes carrying the virus, who got it from biting infected birds or animals—it’s kind of a vicious cycle. Most humans have only mild symptoms, may not even realize they have WNV, and recover without ever seeing a doctor. But it’s a nasty little virus for birds, especially crows for some reason. There is no treatment aside from supportive care; there’s no vaccine, no meds—rehabbers simply provide a safe environment, food and water, etc., and hope for the best. From what I’m seeing from colleagues, this fall there seems to be a rash of WNV cases.
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And rounding out the week, this juvie mourning dove was taken from a cat this morning. He has a couple of small puncture wounds on his right wing and is missing the vast majority of his tail feathers but has no life-threatening injuries. Because cat saliva is toxic to wildlife, however, he’s been started on antibiotics.  He arrived at LWR hours after he was attacked and got his first dose of meds immediately after an intake exam, so he should be good to go in a couple of weeks.

And again, people, I cannot stress this enough: KEEP YOUR CATS INDOORS.

LWR had two releases last week, the red shoulder and barred owl, both of whom came in concussed a week earlier.  And the releases couldn’t have been more diametrically opposed.
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The red shoulder came straight out of the box….to the ground. I watched for a minute—no attempt to fly. I walked toward him. He glared but didn’t move. I started swearing, put the camera up and walked back the less than 15 feet to the box to get the gloves, gloved up, turned around…and the little snot took off. Yup, I’m standing there with gloves on and camera off, and he decides to show me he can, in fact, fly—and fly beautifully. I cussed him out again for his lack of cooperation as I tried to see where he’d gone. All I can tell you is he was somewhere in this stand of trees.

​The barred owl was slightly more cooperative, shooting out of the box but at least taking a long enough departure flight that I caught part of it on video. He sat where he landed for a bit, then soared off to another tree, where I managed one more shot before he also disappeared.

The juvy great horned looks as if he’ll need to be an ed bird or euthanized, if he can’t be placed.  The red tail recovering from the wing fracture is looking good and inhaling food like he’s expecting a famine soon.
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Another first-year red tail came in, this one a window-strike victim with a vengeance. Apparently he was in hot pursuit of a meal and quite literally crashed through the family’s window, breaking it and landing in their living room. Songbirds are smaller and more maneuverable and can swerve at the last minute; raptors as a rule aren’t quite as quick to swerve (Coops being an exception; those birds are insanely maneuverable). Apparently he managed to scratch his cornea on a piece of the glass in the process. It looks nasty and will probably turn into a corneal ulcer before all’s said and done. He’ll have a vet visit next week; my vets closed early Friday due to a death in their family.

​When this juvy cattle egret came in, he was somewhat lethargic but perked up a bit once he’d had time to de-stress some. However, those balled feet worried me. A former waterfowl rehabber once told me, when I was first permitted, that when egrets and herons and such ball their feet like that it’s not a good sign. It’s a strange little quirk that turns out to be a pretty good indicator of the bird’s fate. This poor fellow died overnight.

​Ending on a happier note, this sweet little male flyer came in. He’s about 4 weeks old and was found in the family’s kitchen floor, but they “weren’t sure” if the cat attacked him or not. People. Really. His eyes are still closed; he didn’t wiggle his nose and magically appear on the kitchen floor. Lock the cat flap and keep the cat inside! 

While the pace picked up from the previous week’s watching paint dry slowness, it wasn’t horribly hectic—nothing like colleagues in the Carolinas and Virginia experienced in dealing with Florence’s damage.
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The GHOs were offered freedom; the UGA female took advantage and while I did attempt a video of her flight to freedom, it was so out of focus it wasn’t worth sharing. The photo below was taken when she landed in a nearby tree to get her bearings before soaring away.

​The younger fellow, though…Weeellll… “Houston, we have a problem.” He lunged out of the box…on the ground. He turned and looked at me…on the ground. I walked toward him. He gave me a gorgeous threat display—see below. But NO FLIGHT. I don’t like tossing released birds into the air, but I gloved up, caught him and gently lofted him upward…he spread his wings as if to take flight…and soared right back to the ground. Needless to say, he’s back in the raptor flight and I may end up trying to place him as an ed bird if he doesn’t take advantage of his next release attempt.

​When this barred owl came in, I was pretty sure he only had a concussion; within 24 hours he was eating and both eyes were fully open and clear. He’s ready for release but given we didn’t know for sure how bad the winds from Florence would be in Middle Georgia, I held him through the weekend.

​This juvenile ruby-throated hummer was a probable window-strike victim who never fully recovered. He seemed to be showing improvement at lights-out and died during the night.

​Late Friday night a call came in about a hawk found in the road. The finder was willing to bring the bird to LWR that night, and she arrived with a woozy but very feisty runt male red shoulder. Again, nothing was broken; he just had blood in his beak indicating head trauma, probably a mild concussion. By the next morning he was alert and eating well. Again, his release was delayed to avoid any potential Florence-related weather this weekend.

​Unfortunately, this female house finch, a cat-attack victim, wasn’t as lucky. She died en route to LWR. 

So folks, here’s the deal: either keep your cats INDOORS where they cannot harm wildlife, or learn to grit your teeth and walk away while the murderer YOU loosed on your local wildlife wreaks havoc, killing adult and baby birds, squirrels, and rabbits. Don’t offer lame excuses about how “Fluffy never does this; I just don’t understand.” YES, Fluffy DOES “do this” all the time; you just don’t always see the results of Fluffy’s murderous rampages. Please read this next sentence very carefully: I do NOT blame the cat for doing what its instincts tell it to do; I blame YOU for being a sorry excuse of a pet owner and allowing your cat to roam freely, endangering both the area wildlife and the cat itself.
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KEEP YOUR CATS INDOORS. It's that simple.

It was a slooooow week, with few calls and no intakes. There was a call from a vet clinic in the Atlanta area about a common nighthawk with a wing fracture that was supposed to be headed this way, and they even very kindly emailed their x-rays; however, the bird never arrived and they never bothered to let me know if it had died, been transferred to another rehabber in the metro area, or what.  And with vet clinics being closed on weekends, it’ll be Monday before I can follow up and see what this poor bird’s fate was.

The great horned owls are still in the raptor flight; the goal is to get them out this week. They’re flying well enough to be released now.
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The red tail I was convinced had mucked himself up last week caught a lucky break—which is probably a poor choice of words, all things considered. His original fracture of the ulna is healing adequately, but he has a minor fracture at the head of the radius. Since he’s come this far and seems to be healing well, we’re giving him time to see how this will impact his flight ability.

One of the few calls last week was from a woman who’d found a banded pigeon and wondered what she should do. Since that question comes up at least every couple of months, let me address it here for your edification.

Banded pigeons are racing, or homing, pigeons. Breeders spend vast sums raising them, vaccinating them (they can’t race without a clean bill of health), banding them…and then they load them up, drive several hundred miles from home, release the birds, drive back home, and wait to see how many make it back. Yeah, when you find the logic in that, please let me know.

These birds have no idea how to find food on their own; they’ve been captive raised and had their food provided. They fly until they literally drop from exhaustion and/or hunger, and if they’re lucky, some kind soul sees them and makes sure they have food and water for the several days it takes them to rebuild their energy reserves to complete their journey. Frequently, they become raptor food. Hey, when the buffet is provided…

So what can YOU do if you find a banded pigeon? First, provide food and water; the bird needs both desperately at this point.  A regular wild bird seed mix will be fine; scratch feed is also good. DO NOT offer bread; bread is NOT a suitable food for ANY wildlife.

Once you’ve taken care of the pigeon’s immediate needs, you need to locate the owner. The band contains the info you need to do so. Details on how to do that can be found here: https://www.pigeon.org/lostbirdinfo.htm

Once you’ve located the owner, you can contact him/her to let them know you have their bird. Here’s where it can get downright infuriating. Some owners will flat-out tell you that since the bird didn’t finish the race, they don’t care what you do with it. Others will immediately get directions from you to come get their bird. It’s hit and miss; I’ve had both experiences.

If the owner falls into the “Oh God, I want to strangle you through the phone” category, congratulations, you have a pet pigeon.  He may or may not be socialized, but with time and patience you can have a very affectionate bird. But the homing instinct will always be there, so he can’t be allowed to fly freely, or he’ll be on his way to his “home” where he’s no longer welcome; you’ll need some sort of enclosure (like a flight pen) that will allow him to stretch his wings and fly. Plenty of pigeon breeding sites will provide info on appropriate enclosures, so have fun researching that for yourself.

What, did you think I was gonna do ALL the work for you? That’s what Google’s for!

Sadly, rehabbers occasionally have utterly craptastic weeks, and that was the case at LWR this past week, with a not unusual but still staggering mortality rate for the week. The great blue heron started spitting back undigested food Monday morning and died a couple of hours later. The screech, who was still not flying the length of the raptor flight but getting stronger every day, dropped dead overnight for no apparent reason. The barred owl with the wrist fracture also dropped dead for no discernible reason.
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 The red tail with the suspected spinal injury remained unable to use his legs at all, and while x-rays were inconclusive, we all agreed the lower spine looked odd. He was humanely euthanized.

​The red shoulder whose leg started bleeding out of the blue ended up massively fracturing that leg when we started to x-ray him. I had been treating his leg daily and it was fine; he was putting weight on it; it just had a small wound above the knee, hence the blood last week. However, when we attempted to straighten the leg for x-rays, it quite literally snapped in two, like a twig. Needless to say, the red shoulder required euthanasia too.

​Then, the cherry on top of this godawful week occurred yesterday when I moved the great horneds into the raptor flight and the red tail with the broken wrist into the large crate the younger GHO had been in. The nature of his fracture and his feisty disposition led us to believe he’d be better off without wrapping the wing. This is a judgment call on a wrist fracture, and we usually nail it. Not this time. Mr. Feisty flailed around in his box so much he’s turned a stable fracture into a very unstable one, and he may also require euthanasia. He’ll be headed to Smalley’s next week for re-x-rays to see just how bad the damage is.

​At least the GHOs are doing well in the raptor flight, knock on wood. The younger one is flying pretty well and letting it be known he’s not a happy camper when I walk in to feed them. The older one, who came from UGA’s vet school with a coracoid fracture and a damaged eye, is not flying high or well yet, but that’s normal when recovering from a fracture of any kind—got to “relearn” how to use the affected body part normally again. The eye still looks pretty awful but not near as bad as when he came in. So we’ll see…

The fundraiser ended with 88% of the goal met, $2635 of $3000. Words cannot adequately express my gratitude to those of you who donated; if you missed your chance, the PayPal links on the website will allow you to donate any time. It will be tight, as I was hoping for the small grant (set up by a former area rehabber to be quickly accessible to other area rehabbers with tax-exempt status in a funding crisis, which the committee managing it seems to’ve forgotten) to supplement the fundraiser, but with the $2635 I can at least manage to reopen the doors on a limited basis. We’ll take it on a week-by-week basis, hope for the best, and see how things go—and hope and pray there are no more godawful weeks like this past one (knowing there will be; it’s the nature of the “biz”…).