Last week was another week of releases, intakes and them what ain’t goin’ nowhere just yet, thanks.
The red-headed woodpeckers fledged, did their time in the flight and left without a backward glance. I’ve noticed the red-headeds don’t tend to hang around and mooch like the red-bellies do—I love how different species react differently upon release. I do hear and occasionally see them in the trees around the flight but they’ve made it abundantly clear they don’t want anything else from me!
The red-headed woodpeckers fledged, did their time in the flight and left without a backward glance. I’ve noticed the red-headeds don’t tend to hang around and mooch like the red-bellies do—I love how different species react differently upon release. I do hear and occasionally see them in the trees around the flight but they’ve made it abundantly clear they don’t want anything else from me!
The phoebe also headed to the flight and was released late in the week. She’s also still hanging around but not coming down for handouts—more a case of “hey there, I know you, human!”
The bluebird fledgling who came in last Sunday did require euthanasia. Vet Peggy Hobby and I discussed options because we were both reluctant to euthanize a bluebird, but the sad truth was there was nothing else to be done. The leg was too badly damaged.
A nestling robin came in yesterday with a similar injury but his leg wasn’t initially flopping uselessly and he had some use of his foot, so I was cautiously optimistic he might have a chance. Like bluebirds, robins are in the thrush family, and I just have a general soft spot for thrushes.
However, this morning the swelling had gone down and we had a massively floppy, useless leg and foot. I’ll give him some time to see if he’ll stay confined to a donut to give the bone time to heal without a splint. I can clearly see the break and it’s too high for a splint but not in the joint—and we have the advantage that his bones are still growing—so in this case a little more time may pay off. We’ll see.
A nestling robin came in yesterday with a similar injury but his leg wasn’t initially flopping uselessly and he had some use of his foot, so I was cautiously optimistic he might have a chance. Like bluebirds, robins are in the thrush family, and I just have a general soft spot for thrushes.
However, this morning the swelling had gone down and we had a massively floppy, useless leg and foot. I’ll give him some time to see if he’ll stay confined to a donut to give the bone time to heal without a splint. I can clearly see the break and it’s too high for a splint but not in the joint—and we have the advantage that his bones are still growing—so in this case a little more time may pay off. We’ll see.
The barred owl is going stir-crazy and needs to be in the raptor flight but until the GHOs pass the live prey test and the youngest has a little more time to mature, he’s stuck inside. Remember, raptors of different species don’t play well together.
Sadly, the hunger strike fledgling red-shouldered hawk required euthanasia. His refusal to eat on his own meant force-feeding, and the stress from captivity and force-feeding was just too much on him. He began spitting his food back out at every feeding and as his weight dropped precipitously, he became progressively weaker. Rather than watch him starve and stress himself to death, I opted for euthanasia. Sometimes it’s the only release we can offer.
However, an adult red shoulder came in last week, severely emaciated, weak and with the worst case of frounce I’ve seen in a while. I honestly didn’t expect him to survive the first night. He’s on a liquid diet—small, frequent feedings, because larger meals and solids at this point would likely kill him; his system couldn’t handle the energy expenditure to digest them—and is being treated for the frounce. He’s gone from unable to stand to standing briefly after each feeding, but his survival is still very iffy and he has some sort of mild head tic, as well. This is literally a “feeding by feeding” scenario. Every time he’s alive for the next feeding, it’s a small miracle.
However, an adult red shoulder came in last week, severely emaciated, weak and with the worst case of frounce I’ve seen in a while. I honestly didn’t expect him to survive the first night. He’s on a liquid diet—small, frequent feedings, because larger meals and solids at this point would likely kill him; his system couldn’t handle the energy expenditure to digest them—and is being treated for the frounce. He’s gone from unable to stand to standing briefly after each feeding, but his survival is still very iffy and he has some sort of mild head tic, as well. This is literally a “feeding by feeding” scenario. Every time he’s alive for the next feeding, it’s a small miracle.
The crow is also going stir-crazy but crows pretty much don’t get along with anyone other than crows, so he can’t go into the songbird flight, poor fellow. Right now, LWR feels like a congested airport, with planes backed up on the runway awaiting takeoff. The crow is at the back of that line for the moment! I did resort today to putting him in the dilapidated old flight just so he could stretch his wings a bit and not be so confined. We’ll see how that goes as at least a daytime alternative for a while.
The screech also needs to be in the raptor flight but is less antsy than the larger birds—he’s pretty happy as long as he gets fed and I leave one or two desiccated, disemboweled mouse carcasses in his cage for him to “cache”. I mean, you know, he only gets fed every day—never know when those stashed mice might come in handy…
The screech also needs to be in the raptor flight but is less antsy than the larger birds—he’s pretty happy as long as he gets fed and I leave one or two desiccated, disemboweled mouse carcasses in his cage for him to “cache”. I mean, you know, he only gets fed every day—never know when those stashed mice might come in handy…
Both blue jays are in the songbird flight now and are typical silly jays. The video clip below is one of the rare times they’re actually quiet!
Both of the thrashers died last week, several days apart and with no prior indication there was an issue; rehabbers call it sudden death syndrome. They’re fine at lights-out and dead the next morning. It’s frustrating because we have no warning and no clue WHY they die.
The lone martin is now flying fairly well—still not holding altitude like I’d prefer, so we’ll give him another week and see how he progresses.
We have three mockers, one of whom was cat-caught. Say it with me, people: CATS BELONG INDOORS. Thankfully, he wasn’t injured before he was rescued and is on meds as a prophylactic measure. He and the other fledgling are actually in the flight pen but because mockers are such shameless beggars it’s quite easy to medicate him while he’s begging “FEEEED MEEEE!!”
The youngest of the mockers, still a half-feathered nestling, was fed a crap diet of bird seed and Gravy Train dog food for two days before his finder got him to LWR. Repeat after me, people: WHEN I FIND WILDLIFE, I WILL NOT FEED IT UNTIL I HAVE TALKED WITH A LICENSED REHABBER, AND I WILL CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY.
If only people would do just that…
The lone martin is now flying fairly well—still not holding altitude like I’d prefer, so we’ll give him another week and see how he progresses.
We have three mockers, one of whom was cat-caught. Say it with me, people: CATS BELONG INDOORS. Thankfully, he wasn’t injured before he was rescued and is on meds as a prophylactic measure. He and the other fledgling are actually in the flight pen but because mockers are such shameless beggars it’s quite easy to medicate him while he’s begging “FEEEED MEEEE!!”
The youngest of the mockers, still a half-feathered nestling, was fed a crap diet of bird seed and Gravy Train dog food for two days before his finder got him to LWR. Repeat after me, people: WHEN I FIND WILDLIFE, I WILL NOT FEED IT UNTIL I HAVE TALKED WITH A LICENSED REHABBER, AND I WILL CALL A REHABBER IMMEDIATELY.
If only people would do just that…
These five Carolina wrens are from three separate locations. One was fed bread and blueberries, a crap diet that killed his sib, before he was brought to LWR. Two were given nothing to eat for 12 hours and were so weak, cold, and lethargic on intake that I honestly didn’t expect them to live, given the general stressiness of Caros. Surprisingly, all five are doing well at the moment—with wrens, though, everything can go to pot in a heartbeat.
The oldest Caro, who should’ve been released this week, refuses to leave just yet. That steady supply of mealworms in the songbird flight is just too enticing!
And the brown thrasher who was released the previous week opted to march his little feathered butt right back into the flight in front of me one day last week…Talk about failure to launch…I did get a video of him living up to his name, thrashing about for food in the grass behind the flight before he, umm, returned to the fold, though.
And the brown thrasher who was released the previous week opted to march his little feathered butt right back into the flight in front of me one day last week…Talk about failure to launch…I did get a video of him living up to his name, thrashing about for food in the grass behind the flight before he, umm, returned to the fold, though.
I misidentified this poor nestling at least three times over two days as I debated what she was: mocker? No. Barn swallow? Too big. Catbird? Nope. I knew something was familiar but given my lack of sleep and over 25 gaping beaks to stuff, I honestly didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it; identity simmered on the back burner until this morning, when it finally clicked: flat beak, orange gape, white flanges…she’s a great-crested flycatcher! I normally see them as mostly feathered nestlings or fledglings but they’re a delight at any age. Great cresteds are among my favorite birds to rehab because of their adorable personalities.
And this downy Mississippi kite was thought by his rescuers to be either a “baby crow or eagle”. They looked it up online and he looked similar to both…Ummm…not exactly…Unfortunately, they fed him tuna and gave him water before getting him to a mammal rehabber south of LWR who, after working a full day at her paying job, left her furry charges in the care of her husband and, with her son riding shotgun, delivered this baby to LWR at 9pm. (Yeah, I’m working on bringing her over to the “bird side” but her job may preclude that…) Because of the real risk of aspiration pneumonia from the water he was given and due to his injuries, he’s on meds.
He was probably a victim of a crow raid on his nest, given the plucked back and single puncture wound that would be about crow-beak size. Crows will predate squirrel nests and eat the babies; they’ll do the same to songbird nests, and they’re not above raiding the nests of smaller raptors. Why am I not railing against crows raiding nests? Well, folks, that’s NATURE in action. It’s a WILD bird doing what it’s supposed to do, not someone’s ill-cared-for pet roaming free and wreaking havoc. See the difference?
At any rate, the little guy is doing well; his back is healing nicely and he’s got a healthy appetite. And he’s about the cutest thing I’ve seen this baby season.
At any rate, the little guy is doing well; his back is healing nicely and he’s got a healthy appetite. And he’s about the cutest thing I’ve seen this baby season.
Yes, the scale reads 33.0g. That's just over an ounce!
This and the following photos were taken near lights-out for the night--can you tell by the sleepy look in his little eyes?
RSS Feed
