This will be the last update before Christmas, here’s hoping y’all have a very blessed Christmas surrounded by family and friends. And on a side note, there will be no updates next week, on Dec. 26.

The head trauma barred owl was released; he did the same thing one of the red tails from a couple of months ago did: sat on the glove until I put the camera away to take him back in, then flew off. Unlike the red tail, though, the barred did land where I could see him, so I managed one decent post-release shot before he flew off again, deeper into the woods.

This afternoon, a caller reported hitting a red tail—said it flew into the side of his vehicle and lay in the road on its back but when he got out to check on it, it was still breathing. When he arrived with the bird, luckily nothing was broken. He does have some blood in his right eye and a little blood in his mouth, consistent with head trauma, but he’s alert and not happy to be at LWR. A few days of R&R and a steady supply of mice, and he should be fine as long as there are no internal injuries—and he doesn’t act as if there are, so fingers crossed.

Another barred came early last week in from an out-of-county vet that I’d never worked with before and don’t care to work with again, quite frankly. Apparently they have some degree of fame and expected that to matter to me; wanted to garner some publicity from a follow-up on the owl; and—well, let’s address those issues first. Fame means diddly-squat to me. I’ve turned down numerous offers to have a TV crew film LWR’s activities but here’s the thing—which also relates to the follow-up this clinic wanted: I know how these “reality” shows operate. The “reality” is that they’re as staged as anything else you see on TV. If the lighting isn’t right or the sound quality isn’t what they want or the bird doesn’t react in some flashy way that will cause uninformed viewers to ooh and ah, they want retakes and so forth. Not happenin’ with “my” birds.

See, once these birds are at LWR, they’re now MY responsibility. My permits and my conscience demand that I do everything possible to ease their stress and discomfort, and that includes protecting them from invasive, prying eyes. They’re here to be treated and slated for eventual release, not as part of some circus sideshow. So no, there will be no filming of birds under my care aside from the short videos I take during routine care and at releases.

And on to the other issues: the transport group that initially contacted me about the owl said they were pretty sure it had a wing fracture. The next day, the vet contacted me and claimed the tibia was broken but “not separated.”  The tibia is a LEG bone, not a wing bone. I asked to see the x-rays they had supposedly already done; I was told they’d be sent shortly. This was just after noon. I got the x-rays nearly four hours later, and the time stamp on them indicated they were taken only about 15 minutes before being sent to me. The fracture was indeed in the WING, the radius in fact, and it was displaced pretty badly but given its location it should have healed for flight. I confirmed receipt of the x-ray.

Then they informed me they’d contact the transport group to arrange transportation, so I left it in their hands. This was on Friday...I heard nothing else from them or the transport group over the weekend, so I presumed transport had been arranged to another rehabber, or possibly to Auburn.

On Monday they called to ask if I’d gotten the x-rays. See above—I’d already confirmed receipt on Friday. And they asked when I was coming to pick up the bird. Excuse me? THEY were supposed to be arranging transport FRIDAY. I contacted a stalwart volunteer transporter and asked her if she could get the bird, which she did. It was stressed out beyond belief, having been set in a box in the middle of what she described as a chaotic and noisy exam room. It had not eaten the mice they had tossed in its box. The bird refused even slurry here at LWR, spitting everything back up.  Meds were ineffective. After watching him sit there, eyes closed, near-catatonic and refusing food, for most of last week, I euthanized; it was the kindest option at that point.

And I have asked the transport group to avoid sending anything to this clinic ever again. Not even roadkill.

The broken-foot barred owl remains feisty as ever. I’m as eager as he is to get that boot off his foot so he can be moved outside but he’s got another few weeks yet before we can do follow-up x-rays and remove it. I just hope his constant jumping up and down hasn’t prevented proper healing. We’ll know in a few weeks!

And the red tail who recovered from the broken elbow is still flying very low but for longer distances—nearly the length of the flight pen now. Given the weeks of no improvement, even this slight improvement is promising, especially given that I’d pretty much resigned myself to having to euthanize him. He’s not scot-free yet but I’m hopeful now he’ll keep improving, however slowly.

Again, Merry Christmas, and y’all remember there will be no update on Dec. 26!

Barreds are the world’s worst at ending up in rehab, partially because they tend to hunt along the edges of roads and end up getting whacked by vehicles. As a result, they’re probably the most common species raptor rehabbers see as intakes. One year LWR had something like 23 come in, and not one was savable—that was a really bad year. Fortunately, few years see that sort of 100% euthanasia rate.

This past week, this barred came in with head trauma. He was lucky; nothing was broken. He was just having trouble adjusting his horizontal and vertical hold, as it were. Then we had several days of rain, a wet spell that just ended in the wee hours this morning. So he’s been sitting on ready for a few days now and will be released early this week.

The broken-foot barred continues to eat well and remains antsy—I honestly don’t see how that foot will ever heal, the way he bounces around in his box, but we’ll see. And he delights in trashing his box daily, as you can see... At least he’s leaving the boot on, which vet Jim Hobby and I really didn’t expect. We figured we’d be re-wrapping it nonstop.

And the red tail won himself a slight reprieve when twice last week I saw him attempting low flight—I mean VERY low and not far. But it was a vast improvement over seeing him just run along the ground, and he IS a red tail, so he gets another chance. However, he’s also developed bumblefoot where he and the older red tail released last month locked talons one day, so now that will need treating, as well. It’s always something...

As for the fundraiser, it ended at midnight Saturday with under 50% of the goal met. Heartfelt thanks to those who donated; to those who waited for “someone else” to donate, let me explain some hard facts to you: In the entire state of Georgia, there are just 11 licensed raptor rehabbers, most of whom are in the metro- Atlanta area. Currently I’m the only one listed for the mid-state area; there are two in South Georgia and one on the coast. If those of us outside the metro-Atlanta area stop taking birds, that means there’s no one south of the metro area licensed to take them—which would mean a drive to Atlanta if you wanted help for an injured raptor. Those few of us south of Atlanta keep people from having to make that day trip.

LWR doesn’t do fundraisers because they’re fun; they’re not. Quite frankly, they’re a massive headache, especially given the low response rate, and the funds raised come nowhere close to covering our expenses. But we feel that the fundraisers give the public some stake—some sense of “partnership”—in our efforts. Not everyone can rehab, but most people can spare a donation now and then. Sadly, even the people who bring us birds seldom donate toward their care, and the general public seems not to care at all—until they need a rehabber. Then they cannot understand why no one is within convenient driving distance, why no one can drop everything they’re doing to come get their one bird...or, in extreme cases, why the rehabber whose number they were given says they can’t take anything else at the moment due to space or financial constraints.

Y’all, we don’t do this to make money, but it takes money to do it. And most of us use our own funds to cover the shortfall in our rehab budgets. THIS is why fundraisers are important to us. And they should be to you, as well, because if the state/feds ever decide to create paid positions for wildlife rehabbers, YOUR taxes would go up to cover the salaries for those new government employees. A tax-deductible donation to LWR or your nearest wildlife rehabber keeps us in business and keeps your taxes from increasing. Something for you to consider...

If y’all recall, I mentioned last week LWR would initiate a fundraiser on Giving Tuesday, Nov. 30. It’s not going well: Thus far, just $210 of $1500 has been raised, and the fundraiser is slated to end Dec. 12. This means you have just 7 days to help keep our winter intakes fed. During this season of giving and feasting, please take time to make sure our raptors also eat well as they recover from injury/illness.

A prime example of a bird benefiting from your generosity is this barred owl, who came in with a broken foot. The week before Thanksgiving, vet Jim Hobby of Smalley’s Animal Hospital crafted a boot for him to wear as his foot heals. He’s an antsy fellow now, as with that boot on, he feels good to go—can’t convince him he’s got another month or so at LWR! But during his stay at LWR, he needs food—healthy, species-appropriate food that will not only keep him at a healthy weight but will also provide the nutrients he needs to aid in the healing of that foot. Your donations help keep birds like him fed.

Another example is this first-year red tail who’s struggling to recover from an elbow fracture that healed but froze the joint. His future doesn’t look promising, but until we’re sure he absolutely cannot fly, he needs to eat well. Again, your donations help keep him well-fed.

The only new intake last week still benefited from your largesse, in a different way. This gorgeous great horned owl came in with a closed shoulder fracture and an open elbow fracture. The wing wasn’t salvageable; he required euthanasia. Your donations allow LWR to keep the supplies on hand for a quick, humane euthanasia when there’s no other aid we can provide a bird.

To give you an idea of the cost to feed these birds, I used most of the $210 already donated to get a few bags of mice while the supplier was having a sale: 4 bags of mice—a total of 200 mice—cost $173. Each raptor currently at LWR can eat anywhere from 4-6 mice daily—more if the weather is cooler, less if the weather is warmer. At the moment, I have just two birds, so that’s between 8 and 12 mice daily. You do the math: How long will 200 mice last? I’m serious. Grab your calculator and see just how far nearly $200 worth of mice will go for just 2 birds at, say, 6 mice per bird per day. THIS is why we hold fundraisers a couple of times a year—so YOU can help us keep these birds fed!

If you’ve donated already, many heartfelt thanks; for those who haven’t, can our birds really count on YOU to be “fed for Christmas?”