Going under for the third time…

It’s been insanely busy around here since the June 3 update, hence the tardiness of this one. We’ll just focus on some of the more interesting intakes, for the sake of time and because really, how many photos of the same species doing the same thing can anyone take before getting bored stiff looking at them? We won’t risk that!

These two sets of mockers came in late last week; the older birds were a transfer from rehabber Korey Henderson of Valdosta. They were found in a truck bed…after the truck had been driven some distance and parked in several different locations. No way to renest these babies!

The younger set came in after their nest fell during a rainstorm, and the finders were reluctant to leave them on the ground in the rain. Had the weather been clear, they more than likely could have been reunited with their parents, but given the torrential rains we’ve had lately, leaving them exposed would have resulted in death from drowning, hypothermia or predators.

A hailstorm unnested this young screech owl; the finders did the right thing when they saw him grounded after the storm by leaving him alone and observing from a secluded area. This little guy is still not flighted, though, so when they saw cats moving in, they rescued him and called LWR.

He’s still young enough that his mice have to be chopped into small pieces for him to eat them; he hasn’t quite grasped the concept of using his feet to assist with holding and tearing prey.

When a snake raided their nest just days before they fledged, these three great crested flycatchers leapt to safety but ended up grounded, as they were still unable to fly. Per my suggestion, the finders put them in a small plastic bowl and placed it as high as possible in the tree, but near dark, all the parents had done was fly around scolding, and these babies had gotten hungry. One was grounded again, one was clinging for dear life to the tree trunk, and one was sitting on the edge of the bowl begging for food.

Great crested flycatchers tend to be somewhat shy birds, and getting these babies so close to fledging could have been problematic in terms of feeding. After two days of “negotiations,” however, we reached détente, and now I’ve been ratcheted up to “most favored person” status.

The little darlings fledged last night, leaving me laughing uncontrollably as they flew out of their pen, one by one, chattering excitedly. They’ll be moved to the flight pen as soon as space allows. This time of year, my pens and cages are like a Depression-era flophouse: the bedding has no time to cool from the previous occupant before the new occupant hops in.

When a barred owl family nested in her back yard for several years, this young fellow’s rescuer was delighted. She was less than thrilled this weekend, however, to find this fellow hung in the lines she used to hang her bird feeders.  She untangled him and was worried about his right wing, so she called LWR Sunday. Mr. Attitude (and all of it bad) got a clean bill of health at Smalley’s Animal Hospital yesterday, where he amused vets Peggy Hobby and Shellie Baumann and me to no end with his displays of aggression during the exam. He’ll be returned to his rescuer late this afternoon, to be reunited with his family in her back yard.

For those wondering about the fate of the juvie GHO from the last update, his wing injury was indeed fatal.  I also lost the wood duck, apparently to a heart attack, as he was old enough to be past the stress-death phase. It’s a general rule of wildlife rehab that some 50% of the animals that enter rehab will not leave alive; I witness this on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis.  And yes, it sucks, and around this time of year, my attitude gets really bad, from stress, lack of sleep, too many euthanasias and deaths, too little money in the coffers,  and just flat-out exhaustion.

Contributing to my overall lousy mood, LWR had a fawn come in last night. Because of a family member’s dog who refuses to stay out of my yard and away from my deer pen if it’s occupied, I’ve been sending deer calls to other rehabbers. The guy who rescued this baby after finding him in the road and his mother dead on the side of the road called me; I referred him to two other rehabbers and the state list of licensed rehabbers. After several hours and five calls with no responses, he called me back and I agreed to take the fawn until I could arrange transfer to someone else. We’re in the process now of trying to work out a transfer ASAP. I have neither the time, patience nor funds to deal with a deer this year, nor do I especially like having to fend off the aforementioned dog just to get into the deer pen and then have him snapping, barking and digging outside, scaring the fawn half to death.  Besides, he needs to be with other deer so as not to imprint on humans. Imprinted deer, especially bucks—and he is a young buck—can be very dangerous when they hit sexual maturity and go into rut, because they have no fear of people and even view them as rivals, to be attacked and driven away.

The flight pen birds, some of whom are pictured below,  are all ready for release as soon as we have three consecutive days with little or no rain predicted. Because Georgia needs the rain so badly, however, I’m not complaining—they’ll be fine in the flight pen for another couple of days while we get the much-needed moisture!