With apologies to Charles Dickens (not that I imagine he cares at this point, right?). The week was bookended with releases but had an awful lot of not-so-great outcomes in the middle.
Let’s start with the early week release—the red shoulder who was bouncing off the walls shot out of his box like he was fired from a cannon.
Let’s start with the early week release—the red shoulder who was bouncing off the walls shot out of his box like he was fired from a cannon.
But then we had a cat-attacked adult male bluebird come in, bedraggled looking and missing a lot of feathers. Despite our starting antibiotics immediately and x-rays showing no fractures, the poor fellow lasted three days before giving up the ghost—and I honestly think it was sheer stress rather than actual injury.
And then this sweet Mississippi kite nestling came in with what felt like a fracture in or near the wrist. X-rays confirmed both the radius and ulna were fractured and badly displaced; we had to euthanize. (I forgot to ask Smalley’s to send me the x-rays; we were all too bummed at having to euthanize such a young bird.)
The older MIKIs are doing well, though, and will be ready for the flight pen pretty soon—they’ll take precedence over older LWR guests when they’re ready, as they have to be flight-worthy when migration starts for them in September. No photos of them this week; they’re just wing-flapping like crazy in their box.
The nestling thrasher’s leg wasn’t broken (again, forgot to ask Smalley’s to send x-rays—same day we had to euthanize the MIKI) and we were hopeful that he’d regain near-full use of the leg, as he was already showing promising progress. But, as can too often happen in rehab, he was fine one night and dead the next morning, for no apparent reason.
This juvenile purple martin came in after being unnested and soaked in a rainstorm; he’s in the songbird flight with the blue jays, tree swallow, robin and shrike.
The nestling thrasher’s leg wasn’t broken (again, forgot to ask Smalley’s to send x-rays—same day we had to euthanize the MIKI) and we were hopeful that he’d regain near-full use of the leg, as he was already showing promising progress. But, as can too often happen in rehab, he was fine one night and dead the next morning, for no apparent reason.
This juvenile purple martin came in after being unnested and soaked in a rainstorm; he’s in the songbird flight with the blue jays, tree swallow, robin and shrike.
Note: the shrike can see just fine; that’s the flash reflecting in his eye.
These sweet Carolina wren nestlings came in after being found in an engine. There were three but one died en route. One of the two survivors actually didn’t survive the night; the final wren made it 48 hours. They’re stressy little birds and don’t do well when they miss too many feedings.
These sweet Carolina wren nestlings came in after being found in an engine. There were three but one died en route. One of the two survivors actually didn’t survive the night; the final wren made it 48 hours. They’re stressy little birds and don’t do well when they miss too many feedings.
And today, this young adult mocker came in after being hit by a vehicle, followed shortly by an adult mourning dove found on the road with a broken wing. I’m not real hopeful for either. The mocker acts as if there are internal injuries, while the dove’s fracture feels like it’s right in the shoulder joint.
The red shoulder whose flight skills were not great required euthanasia; the raptor flight didn’t remain empty long, though, as I moved the juvie great horned owl in immediately. Yeah, I know last week I was planning to hold off and put both GHOs in together (and the adult is doing well, by the way), but this fellow needs to develop his flight muscles, show me he can catch his own prey and be gone, so the MIKIs can move in. The adult GHO can cool his heels for another few weeks. There’s always a waiting list for the raptor flight at LWR—it’s the raptor equivalent of a popular night club, I guess!
And the red shoulder who came in emaciated and weak let it be known he was ready to pack his bags and go—and go he did! After a less than impressive exit from the box, he proceeded to the highest branch he could find to survey his new surroundings.
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