Yeah, that’s pretty much the only way to describe the past week. Every new intake died or was euthanized. And today we got in a juvie cattle egret who’s not looking good…
Our first DOA of the week was a nestling mourning dove from Laurens County who didn’t show any signs of injury, was fairly well-fleshed, but something was …off. It’s sort of a sixth sense rehabbers develop—we can’t find the problem, but we know one’s there. My vets at Smalley’s Animal Hospital coined a term for this that I’ve adopted: “ain’t doin’ right”, or ADR. This little mourning dove was ADR but I held out hope that maybe I was being paranoid and she’d be okay. Because her finder was worried that possibly neighborhood free-roaming cats had mauled the dove, I started her on antibiotics as a precautionary measure. She died during the night.
Our first DOA of the week was a nestling mourning dove from Laurens County who didn’t show any signs of injury, was fairly well-fleshed, but something was …off. It’s sort of a sixth sense rehabbers develop—we can’t find the problem, but we know one’s there. My vets at Smalley’s Animal Hospital coined a term for this that I’ve adopted: “ain’t doin’ right”, or ADR. This little mourning dove was ADR but I held out hope that maybe I was being paranoid and she’d be okay. Because her finder was worried that possibly neighborhood free-roaming cats had mauled the dove, I started her on antibiotics as a precautionary measure. She died during the night.
Next was an adult brown thrasher from Toombs County who was in all likelihood attacked by the finder’s outdoor cat. She saw the cat near the bird, who was thrashing about in the dirt. His leg was broken, either at the hip or in the femur. I also started him on antibiotics and made him as comfortable as possible until I could get him in for x-rays the next morning (he came in at 7:30 at night). He also died during the night, suggesting internal injuries from the cat attack, although the only external injury was the broken leg.
When this first-year female red tailed hawk came in from Washington County, I had high hopes. She was extremely emaciated but alert. Her only injuries were a broken “eyebrow” and a small metatarsal (foot) fracture. These were fixable, and even more cause for celebration, she would eat without being force-fed! Unfortunately, she began throwing up after every meal, so none of the needed nutrition was staying in her. I utilized a trick taught to me by another rehabber to end the vomiting—which I won’t elaborate on here, but any rehabbers reading this are welcome to contact me privately for details—a trick that has worked almost miraculously in the past. Not with this lady. Then the poop started…not diarrhea, but color and consistency indicating internal bleeding…she died within hours…
The same day, this first-year male red tail came in from Bibb County with wing and leg fractures. I knew the wing fracture was fixable, even without an x-ray. The leg, though…the leg was in bad shape. THAT was gonna be the fate-sealer. And so it was. The next morning at Smalley’s, vet Peggy Hobby agreed that the severity of the leg fracture and displacement of the bones was a death sentence. We euthanized.
And today, after an all-night and into-the-morning rainstorm, I found this juvenile cattle egret slumping at the edge of the hay field, sopping wet and covered with fire ants. We’d seen him around for a few days, eating at the far edge of the hay field, and I even started over to check on him once, but he flew away. As long as a bird is eating and flying, you don’t intervene. I worried, though, because all the other cattle egrets have migrated. He was on his own—quite literally.
This morning, near daybreak, I saw him flying in a light drizzle. Four hours later, he was down, drenched and ant-covered. I don’t know what happened in those four hours. I do know he’s very, very thin and weak, and he’s covered with fire ant bites, even his poor little eyes. I can’t think of a worse way to die than being bitten to death by fire ants.
Whether this poor fellow will make it or not is still uncertain. Rationally speaking, his chances aren’t good. From an emotional standpoint, though, I really, really want him to pull through. That said, to be honest, if we were placing bets on his survival, my money would be on death by the end of the day—if that long. I sincerely hope I’m wrong. Nothing would please me more than to be able to report to you next week that he’s doing well. Don’t hold your breath, though. He’s in bad shape…
This morning, near daybreak, I saw him flying in a light drizzle. Four hours later, he was down, drenched and ant-covered. I don’t know what happened in those four hours. I do know he’s very, very thin and weak, and he’s covered with fire ant bites, even his poor little eyes. I can’t think of a worse way to die than being bitten to death by fire ants.
Whether this poor fellow will make it or not is still uncertain. Rationally speaking, his chances aren’t good. From an emotional standpoint, though, I really, really want him to pull through. That said, to be honest, if we were placing bets on his survival, my money would be on death by the end of the day—if that long. I sincerely hope I’m wrong. Nothing would please me more than to be able to report to you next week that he’s doing well. Don’t hold your breath, though. He’s in bad shape…
Rather than end with gloom and doom, let me report that the nighthawk is doing well. Look at the improvement from last week in the flesh wound on her wing! I’ll be unwrapping that wing so she can test it in another few days, and I’m hopeful she’ll be able to use it. I leave you with a nice head shot and a lovely video clip of her “rasping”, which is the correct term for the “growling” noises they make.
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