Go home now, Murphy!

​Yeah, I shoulda known better than to say it’d been an unusually slow week. Murphy overheard that comment, began cackling with sadistic glee, and promptly set about making sure this past week was ANYthing but quiet or slow.
 
Let’s start with the most unusual bird of the week—actually, ever—a hurricane victim. Yeah, remember the wind and rain we got last weekend as a result of Hermine moving inland? Well, it caught this poor bird in its winds and blew him hundreds of miles off course. What species am I referring to?
 
A red-billed tropicbird. Apparently the folks that do the bird naming just ran out of good names and stuck these gorgeous birds with a kinda pedestrian but descriptive name. They’re tropical and almost never seen even along the US East and West coasts, as their normal range is pretty much a U-shaped region from more or less Central America through the Panama Canal, roughly, to the Caribbean. Their legs are set far back on their bodies, like loons, and they’re only on land to raise their babies, as they have to drag themselves along by their wings on land. They spend most of their lives airborne, diving to catch squid and fish, and have much smaller feet than loons, making them less agile swimmers.

​He was found in the road by an elderly couple in a nearby county and bless their hearts, they kept calling people all day, until they reached LWR. Within an hour of their call, they’d gotten him to LWR and the husband pulled out his bird book and said, “I think this is what it is,” pointing to a photo of a red-billed tropicbird. All I could do was say, “Damn, I think you’re right!”
 
After some quick research to determine their normal range, I called colleague Veronica Bowers in California, hoping she’d know someone who’d worked with these birds. She referred me to Save Our Shearwaters (SOS) in Hawaii, who’d worked with the red-TAILED tropicbird, a similar species. I was happy to find that my basic care plan was on track with what SOS recommended. Their main concern was his weight, as a healthy weight would have been around 6-700g. This poor guy weighed in at 330g, about half what he should have. He was also exhausted. Still, we were hopeful that he’d make it. Unfortunately, he died that night.
 
I called DNR wildlife biologist Chris Baumann the next morning to see if DNR could use the carcass for educational purposes, and within two days Chris called back to say that the Georgia Museum of Natural History was eager to have the bird for study and display. So even though he didn’t make it back to his home territory, he’ll educate generations of Georgians about his species.

​Another uncommon but not rare visitor to LWR last week was this gorgeous little common nighthawk. He had abrasions on his wing and enough swelling that I couldn’t say for sure if it was broken. When I got him to Smalley’s Animal Hospital for x-rays, the swelling was down but the abrasions had hard scabs, still making it hard to tell if there was a fracture.
 
Unfortunately, the x-rays did show a fracture in the rough equivalent of his hand, near the wrist. It may interfere with full extension of the wing, but vets Richie Hatcher and Peggy Hobby agreed that we should give him time to heal to see if he’ll be able to fly again. Problem is, he’s facing a time crunch, as these birds are already migrating to South America for the winter. Because common nighthawks are aerial insectivores, adult birds must be force-fed in rehab, which adds another layer of stress, so they don’t make good candidates for overwintering. Keep your fingers crossed that this guy heals in time to make migration.

The white spots on their wings are a hallmark of common nighthawks.

​A gorgeous and aggressive first-year male red-tailed hawk came in without a feather out of place but a broken left shoulder. The broken bone was so small we almost missed it on the x-ray. Richie and I were sure there was a shoulder issue but we initially thought it was soft-tissue damage. Again, there was the real risk the healed fracture would interfere with flight but Richie, Peggy and I agreed it was worth giving the bird that chance.
 
He was doing great, inhaling food, and then Thursday evening he didn’t eat his mouse. He was well-fleshed on intake, and it’s not unusual for red-tails to go without eating for a day or two, even in rehab, so I wasn’t too concerned. Within 24 hours he was dead. No rhyme or reason, just from healthy, alert and eating everything offered to not eating and dead. THIS is when a necropsy would be useful.

​Hot on his heels, an adult red-shouldered hawk came in, found in the middle of the road still clutching his mouse. The young man who rescued him and brought him to LWR was amazed that he refused to let go of his prey until he picked him up.
 
His leg was badly broken and I suspected it couldn’t be fixed, but he also went to Smalley’s for x-rays that confirmed my suspicions. Peggy took one look at the x-ray and exclaimed, “Oh, that is REALLY messed up!”
 
The red shoulder was humanely euthanized.

​On Labor Day a lady called with a white bird she thought might be a heron in her yard, although she lived nowhere near a pool, pond or stream. I was sure, based on her description, she had a cattle egret, but when she brought the bird, it turned out to be a thin juvenile little blue heron. Turns out juvy little blues are white—go figure!
​
He was alert and able to stand and honestly, I’ve never had a heron come in that wasn’t on the thin side, so I figured all he needed was a few days of R&R and unlimited fish—if he’d self-feed. Great blue herons are really bad about not self-feeding in rehab, but the smaller herons don’t seem to have those issues, so I figured this gorgeous little guy would eat just fine if nothing else was going on.
 
And brother, did he EAT. I wiped out my cousin’s minnow supply at his bait and tackle store! 

See those comb-like structures on his middle toes? They aid in grooming!

​He was released late in the week and flew right out of the box before I could even finish opening the flaps or focus the camera, although he did come back down to the water after a while and I spent way too long snapping photos and getting video clips of him eating and walking around his release site.

​This afternoon, another first year red-tail arrived, this one unable to use her legs. She can move them slightly and jerked as I cleaned the poop off her feathers where she’d laid in it during transport, and she eats well. She’s had a steroid injection in case the problem is just inflammation around the spinal cord, and we’ll get x-rays tomorrow to see if anything shows. I’m rather in love with her at the moment; she’s got a great, laid-back disposition and accepts the fact that I’m trying to help her.

​In total contrast, this first-year Cooper’s hawk also came in today with a small ding on his left wing that might indicate a pellet wound, so he’ll need x-rays too. Nothing feels broken but to be quite honest, I didn’t do as thorough an exam as I normally do on new intakes, as when I was examining him I loosened my grip on his feet microscopically, which was just enough for him to snatch one foot loose and foot the hell out of my right hand. He had such a death grip on my ring finger that it had started turning blue before I was able to pry him off. And then, as soon as I got him loose from the right hand, he nailed the left, right through the thumb. See those bright red drops of blood on his tail in the full-body photo? It’s mine. His box looks like a massacre took place in it where I dripped blood all over the place putting him back up so I could treat my own injuries.

Yes, that does appear to be remnants of his last songbird meal still in his beak...

Yes, yes, we wear gloves when handling raptors. But you can’t do an exam with heavy handling gloves on—you can’t feel anything through them. So it’s a calculated risk. Most times you don’t get nailed but with Coops all bets are off because they’re psychotic little snots to begin with, and being in a rehab setting only serves to increase their psychoses. I’m not real thrilled when Coops come in; give me a red-tail or a red shoulder any day!
 
I also got in two more mourning doves last week, a nestling and a fledgling. The nestling didn’t survive; the fledgling is in the flight pen with the older two who were slated for the flight last week. No pix of any of them, as they refuse to let me near them now.

And while you can’t SEE anything in the video clip below, turn up your speakers and LISTEN to the screech making the adorable little trilling sound characteristic of his species. I love their trills, absolutely LOVE ‘em! He’s slated for release this week. He’s definitely ready to go.