Let’s lead with a departure. The screech owl was released last week and did what a small but aggressive predator should do: headed straight for the thicket, where it would be hard for a larger predator, like a barred or great horned owl, to have him for supper. This very real possibility is always a worry of mine when releasing screeches, but I was pleased with his survival instinct!
The chimney swifts I was struggling to keep alive weren’t as fortunate; one actually died and the others were in such bad shape, losing weight and not showing proper feather development, that I opted to euthanize.
However, hot on their heels came another nest of swifts, these kept for two weeks by a family reluctant to surrender them, even though they knew their possession of the birds was illegal. Apparently part of the reluctance was my insistence that they meet me at one of the “safe” areas around the county where I pick up birds, rather than allowing them to come to my house.
Let me address that issue first: folks, LWR is a home-based rehab center. That means that the rehabs and I share a roof. I don’t want strangers in and out of my house; I don’t want strangers knowing where I live; I don’t run a petting zoo where you deliver a critter or critters and get to “play” with everything else. Yes, it would be more convenient—and cheaper for me—to have birds delivered right to my doorstep, but I live in an isolated rural area, and I prefer to be safe rather than sorry, for my sake and that of the critters.
Now to the issue of this nest of swifts…the family actually did a fairly decent job, aside from aspirating one of the babies, who died shortly after they were delivered to my care. It was actually his declining condition that finally precipitated them turning the birds over to me—not the fact that they were in violation of state and federal law.
This lot is doing quite well and exercising their wings like mad; one of the little rascals is even spending most of his time clinging to the walls of the reptarium rather than huddled with his sibs, and another of the sibs has joined him once or twice.
In the video below, I was about to change their poop-paper when the three still in the “nest” suddenly had a burst of wing-ercizing. Needless to say, the paper change waited until they were done!
However, hot on their heels came another nest of swifts, these kept for two weeks by a family reluctant to surrender them, even though they knew their possession of the birds was illegal. Apparently part of the reluctance was my insistence that they meet me at one of the “safe” areas around the county where I pick up birds, rather than allowing them to come to my house.
Let me address that issue first: folks, LWR is a home-based rehab center. That means that the rehabs and I share a roof. I don’t want strangers in and out of my house; I don’t want strangers knowing where I live; I don’t run a petting zoo where you deliver a critter or critters and get to “play” with everything else. Yes, it would be more convenient—and cheaper for me—to have birds delivered right to my doorstep, but I live in an isolated rural area, and I prefer to be safe rather than sorry, for my sake and that of the critters.
Now to the issue of this nest of swifts…the family actually did a fairly decent job, aside from aspirating one of the babies, who died shortly after they were delivered to my care. It was actually his declining condition that finally precipitated them turning the birds over to me—not the fact that they were in violation of state and federal law.
This lot is doing quite well and exercising their wings like mad; one of the little rascals is even spending most of his time clinging to the walls of the reptarium rather than huddled with his sibs, and another of the sibs has joined him once or twice.
In the video below, I was about to change their poop-paper when the three still in the “nest” suddenly had a burst of wing-ercizing. Needless to say, the paper change waited until they were done!
The great crested flycatcher was released last week, as well, and continues to dive-bomb me for a handout several times a day. She’s occasionally joined by the goldfinch and robin released several weeks ago.
Speaking of the robin, I caught him foraging in the front yard for insects. He was a pretty busy bird!
The Carolina wrens are *thisclose* to ready for release and should be out of here by late next week, if the weather cooperates. I’m using an alternative to the flight pen for their flight conditioning, for reasons I’ll discuss in just a bit.
This fledgling blue jay was kidnapped to prevent free-roaming cats and dogs from attacking him. He’s not a happy camper and as soon as he begins self-feeding, he’ll be released—the sooner, the better from his standpoint.
The possum is still thin but gaining weight now and is self-feeding, which from this rehabber’s perspective is a wonderful thing! Unfortunately, even self-feeding, he still wears about as much as he eats, so yes, he’s wet in the photo below, because he’s had a bath to remove the formula he was wearing…
This nestling cardinal came in today, gaping and eating well…and was dead within 45 minutes of arrival. His finders said their cat alerted them to his presence Saturday evening but they didn’t think the cat ever touched the bird. However, they did leave him out overnight and he was fed one of those “Internet diets” before they got him to me, so…I don’t know what happened. Perhaps his last meal from his parents had pesticides; perhaps the “Internet diet”, while not the worst I’ve seen, did him in; perhaps the cat did have him in its mouth and he ingested cat saliva, which is toxic to wildlife, while preening. I have no clue. I hate it, as cardinals are sweet little things as youngsters, and I was looking forward to seeing this little fellow join the throngs of cardinals in my yard…
And now for the reason the wrens are in an alternative to the flight pen: last week I received a call about two young barred owls. The original tale was that the caller peripherally knew the person who’d had them for two weeks and was trying to get this person to surrender the birds to a licensed rehabber. After some back and forth, during which time I was never put into direct contact with the purported possessor of the birds, I did get them. According to the middleman, they’d been fed hot dogs and shrimp for two months, not two weeks. When I tried again to get contact information for the person who supposedly had them to get more details, I was stalled again and the middleman yet again said they’d call this person for me…The diet got even better with the next call: in addition to hot dogs and shrimp, the owls were fed salmon, tuna, and some sort of fish filet…and were kept—supposedly unrestrained—in a back bedroom. I was never able to speak to this person, leading me to doubt his actual existence, to be honest.
All I know for sure is these owls are royally screwed up. When they were started on a real raptor diet—small, frequent meals so the shock of real food didn’t kill them—their poop smelled like 100% fish oil for 24 hours. Their feathers are still ratty and oily feeling. They’re still too thin for their size. The way they held their wings made me suspect they’d never actually had the chance to fully extend them…so into the flight pen they went. It’s not an ideal solution, as it’s really designed for songbirds and maybe small raptors like screeches, but they needed to learn how to use their wings, ASAP.
Thus far—and it’s been nearly a week—they still cannot actually fly; it’s more a drunken aerial struggle before crashing. The dietary deficiencies they suffered during those two (or more—who knows?) months may have screwed them up to the point that we still end up euthanizing. Only time will tell and we’re trying to give them that time to see if proper diet and room to move can compensate for the damage done.
Thus far—and it’s been nearly a week—they still cannot actually fly; it’s more a drunken aerial struggle before crashing. The dietary deficiencies they suffered during those two (or more—who knows?) months may have screwed them up to the point that we still end up euthanizing. Only time will tell and we’re trying to give them that time to see if proper diet and room to move can compensate for the damage done.
And finally, we have this little mystery pre-fledgling. Because I had no clue what species this is, I posted photos and video on Facebook, asking my fellow songbird rehabbers if they knew. We’re still not sure, after an all-day guessing session, but the general consensus seems to be possibly an orchard oriole. I’ve sent photos and video to Cornell’s Lab of Ornithology, as they’ve been very helpful in IDing mystery birds in the past, but it takes them a few days to respond. Meanwhile, I feel less stupid when he’s stumped my colleagues, as well!
He’s lost some weight and is not as perky as he was on intake, so he’s on antibiotics to see if we can perk him back up. If I don’t see improvement by Monday morning, I’ll run him to the vet clinic for further testing to see if we can get this little guy back on track.
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