In keeping with the theory that Nature abhors a vacuum, hot on the heels of this week’s releases came intakes. That’s par for the course in wildlife rehab, where even the “slow” season usually isn’t, except in relation to the chaos that’s baby bird season.
Our habituated turkey vulture, after a week of what can loosely be termed confinement (I say loosely because the smart not-so-little snot quickly figured out he could tear out of his box and proceeded to do so…daily…sometimes twice daily…), decided he really didn’t like humans that much after all, and hesitated not a bit when offered the chance to leave the LWR B&B.
Our habituated turkey vulture, after a week of what can loosely be termed confinement (I say loosely because the smart not-so-little snot quickly figured out he could tear out of his box and proceeded to do so…daily…sometimes twice daily…), decided he really didn’t like humans that much after all, and hesitated not a bit when offered the chance to leave the LWR B&B.
The great blue heron who’d been tangled in fishing cord and had his wing hooked was also ready to go. At one point both birds got out of their respective boxes at the same time and since they were housed in the same room, that made for an interesting “dance.” Add to the mix one increasingly irritated rehabber trying to “re-confine” said birds, and you get Three Stooges-level insanity. Sorry, there’s no video of that. By the time the two of them had finished trashing the place, the resultant destruction would have made a rock star misty-eyed with pride. I still don’t have it fully restored to any semblance of order.
At any rate, the heron was happy to see freedom, too. Just once I’d like to release a heron or a loon or a coot and see it fly away—just once. But they always either swim or walk away—in the case of herons, it’s always walking. Makes sense, if you stop and think about it: they are long-legged wading birds, after all. But I’d still like for just one to fly away at his release…
At any rate, the heron was happy to see freedom, too. Just once I’d like to release a heron or a loon or a coot and see it fly away—just once. But they always either swim or walk away—in the case of herons, it’s always walking. Makes sense, if you stop and think about it: they are long-legged wading birds, after all. But I’d still like for just one to fly away at his release…
Also last week, we had a HBC killdeer come in. I have no shame in admitting that I didn’t realize killdeer were year-round residents in Georgia. We hear and see them all spring and summer, but I can’t ever recall seeing or hearing them in the fall or winter, so I just presumed they were migratory. Nope. They’re here year-round.
At any rate, the young woman whose grille this killdeer flew into was distraught when she hit him. She called me immediately, and I honestly expected to pick up a bird who’d need euthanizing due to a massively shattered wing, leg, or both. To my pleasant surprise, the killdeer had only a trashed eye and a bad headache. I mean, it’s still going to take some recovery time for him to adjust to flight and searching for food with one good eye, but it’s better than a leg or wing fracture.
At any rate, the young woman whose grille this killdeer flew into was distraught when she hit him. She called me immediately, and I honestly expected to pick up a bird who’d need euthanizing due to a massively shattered wing, leg, or both. To my pleasant surprise, the killdeer had only a trashed eye and a bad headache. I mean, it’s still going to take some recovery time for him to adjust to flight and searching for food with one good eye, but it’s better than a leg or wing fracture.
For those of you who live near the shore and are wondering, yes, killdeer are in the plover family but despite being technically classified as waterfowl, they actually spend very little time near water. Go figure…
Anyway, this guy’s got a while yet before release. He’s eating well and has learned to throw a tantrum to alert me when his mealworms run out, so he’s considerably less stressed than a young killdeer would be. Baby killdeer don’t fare well, as a rule, in rehab.
This young sharp-shinned hawk was found by the side of the road on a nasty, misty, damp day. When I met his rescuers, it was immediately apparent that there was nothing to be done for him but to euthanize. His left foot was trashed beyond any hope of repair, and he was so weak from starvation and blood loss that he didn’t even put up the usual accipiter struggle.
I have no idea what caused the injury. He could have been clipped by a side-view mirror on a vehicle. Given his emaciated state, he might have been desperate enough to try to catch a squirrel—hope outrunning reason, when the squirrel would be almost as big as the bird. Sharpies are actually pretty small raptors. He might even have been shot, although a detailed examination after he was euthanized led me to eliminate that as a truly viable possibility.
Anyway, this guy’s got a while yet before release. He’s eating well and has learned to throw a tantrum to alert me when his mealworms run out, so he’s considerably less stressed than a young killdeer would be. Baby killdeer don’t fare well, as a rule, in rehab.
This young sharp-shinned hawk was found by the side of the road on a nasty, misty, damp day. When I met his rescuers, it was immediately apparent that there was nothing to be done for him but to euthanize. His left foot was trashed beyond any hope of repair, and he was so weak from starvation and blood loss that he didn’t even put up the usual accipiter struggle.
I have no idea what caused the injury. He could have been clipped by a side-view mirror on a vehicle. Given his emaciated state, he might have been desperate enough to try to catch a squirrel—hope outrunning reason, when the squirrel would be almost as big as the bird. Sharpies are actually pretty small raptors. He might even have been shot, although a detailed examination after he was euthanized led me to eliminate that as a truly viable possibility.
For what it’s worth, I don’t post these graphic pictures for their shock value. I post them so that people have a real grasp of what’s involved in wildlife rehab. The public seems to have this “Disneyfied” notion that rehabbers sit around and play with Nature’s creatures and release them all to live long, happy lives. I call it the warm’n’fuzzy, cute’n’cuddly mentality. Oh, if only…As I’ve mentioned here repeatedly, nationwide an average of 50% of the wildlife brought to rehabbers won’t survive. The greater part of that 50% will be euthanized due to illnesses or injuries that cannot be treated. The greater part of those fatal illnesses and injuries are directly related to human activity. I’m not even gonna soapbox about this; you know where I stand on humanity’s detrimental impact on wildlife.
And believe it or not, we have three more flying squirrels, all males, approximately five to six weeks old! Their mother was killed when the tree their nest was in was felled for firewood. The people who found the babies got them to me within two hours of their mother’s death, so they didn’t get fed the wrong thing or get dehydrated—and they kept them under a heat lamp until they brought them to me, so they didn’t get chilled, either! Do you know how good that is for a rehabber’s blood pressure?!
So here ya go—more flyer cuteness with LWR’s official first babies (of any species) of the year!
And believe it or not, we have three more flying squirrels, all males, approximately five to six weeks old! Their mother was killed when the tree their nest was in was felled for firewood. The people who found the babies got them to me within two hours of their mother’s death, so they didn’t get fed the wrong thing or get dehydrated—and they kept them under a heat lamp until they brought them to me, so they didn’t get chilled, either! Do you know how good that is for a rehabber’s blood pressure?!
So here ya go—more flyer cuteness with LWR’s official first babies (of any species) of the year!
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