LWR had two releases last week, the red shoulder and barred owl, both of whom came in concussed a week earlier.  And the releases couldn’t have been more diametrically opposed.
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The red shoulder came straight out of the box….to the ground. I watched for a minute—no attempt to fly. I walked toward him. He glared but didn’t move. I started swearing, put the camera up and walked back the less than 15 feet to the box to get the gloves, gloved up, turned around…and the little snot took off. Yup, I’m standing there with gloves on and camera off, and he decides to show me he can, in fact, fly—and fly beautifully. I cussed him out again for his lack of cooperation as I tried to see where he’d gone. All I can tell you is he was somewhere in this stand of trees.

​The barred owl was slightly more cooperative, shooting out of the box but at least taking a long enough departure flight that I caught part of it on video. He sat where he landed for a bit, then soared off to another tree, where I managed one more shot before he also disappeared.

The juvy great horned looks as if he’ll need to be an ed bird or euthanized, if he can’t be placed.  The red tail recovering from the wing fracture is looking good and inhaling food like he’s expecting a famine soon.
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Another first-year red tail came in, this one a window-strike victim with a vengeance. Apparently he was in hot pursuit of a meal and quite literally crashed through the family’s window, breaking it and landing in their living room. Songbirds are smaller and more maneuverable and can swerve at the last minute; raptors as a rule aren’t quite as quick to swerve (Coops being an exception; those birds are insanely maneuverable). Apparently he managed to scratch his cornea on a piece of the glass in the process. It looks nasty and will probably turn into a corneal ulcer before all’s said and done. He’ll have a vet visit next week; my vets closed early Friday due to a death in their family.

​When this juvy cattle egret came in, he was somewhat lethargic but perked up a bit once he’d had time to de-stress some. However, those balled feet worried me. A former waterfowl rehabber once told me, when I was first permitted, that when egrets and herons and such ball their feet like that it’s not a good sign. It’s a strange little quirk that turns out to be a pretty good indicator of the bird’s fate. This poor fellow died overnight.

​Ending on a happier note, this sweet little male flyer came in. He’s about 4 weeks old and was found in the family’s kitchen floor, but they “weren’t sure” if the cat attacked him or not. People. Really. His eyes are still closed; he didn’t wiggle his nose and magically appear on the kitchen floor. Lock the cat flap and keep the cat inside! 

While the pace picked up from the previous week’s watching paint dry slowness, it wasn’t horribly hectic—nothing like colleagues in the Carolinas and Virginia experienced in dealing with Florence’s damage.
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The GHOs were offered freedom; the UGA female took advantage and while I did attempt a video of her flight to freedom, it was so out of focus it wasn’t worth sharing. The photo below was taken when she landed in a nearby tree to get her bearings before soaring away.

​The younger fellow, though…Weeellll… “Houston, we have a problem.” He lunged out of the box…on the ground. He turned and looked at me…on the ground. I walked toward him. He gave me a gorgeous threat display—see below. But NO FLIGHT. I don’t like tossing released birds into the air, but I gloved up, caught him and gently lofted him upward…he spread his wings as if to take flight…and soared right back to the ground. Needless to say, he’s back in the raptor flight and I may end up trying to place him as an ed bird if he doesn’t take advantage of his next release attempt.

​When this barred owl came in, I was pretty sure he only had a concussion; within 24 hours he was eating and both eyes were fully open and clear. He’s ready for release but given we didn’t know for sure how bad the winds from Florence would be in Middle Georgia, I held him through the weekend.

​This juvenile ruby-throated hummer was a probable window-strike victim who never fully recovered. He seemed to be showing improvement at lights-out and died during the night.

​Late Friday night a call came in about a hawk found in the road. The finder was willing to bring the bird to LWR that night, and she arrived with a woozy but very feisty runt male red shoulder. Again, nothing was broken; he just had blood in his beak indicating head trauma, probably a mild concussion. By the next morning he was alert and eating well. Again, his release was delayed to avoid any potential Florence-related weather this weekend.

​Unfortunately, this female house finch, a cat-attack victim, wasn’t as lucky. She died en route to LWR. 

So folks, here’s the deal: either keep your cats INDOORS where they cannot harm wildlife, or learn to grit your teeth and walk away while the murderer YOU loosed on your local wildlife wreaks havoc, killing adult and baby birds, squirrels, and rabbits. Don’t offer lame excuses about how “Fluffy never does this; I just don’t understand.” YES, Fluffy DOES “do this” all the time; you just don’t always see the results of Fluffy’s murderous rampages. Please read this next sentence very carefully: I do NOT blame the cat for doing what its instincts tell it to do; I blame YOU for being a sorry excuse of a pet owner and allowing your cat to roam freely, endangering both the area wildlife and the cat itself.
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KEEP YOUR CATS INDOORS. It's that simple.

It was a slooooow week, with few calls and no intakes. There was a call from a vet clinic in the Atlanta area about a common nighthawk with a wing fracture that was supposed to be headed this way, and they even very kindly emailed their x-rays; however, the bird never arrived and they never bothered to let me know if it had died, been transferred to another rehabber in the metro area, or what.  And with vet clinics being closed on weekends, it’ll be Monday before I can follow up and see what this poor bird’s fate was.

The great horned owls are still in the raptor flight; the goal is to get them out this week. They’re flying well enough to be released now.
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The red tail I was convinced had mucked himself up last week caught a lucky break—which is probably a poor choice of words, all things considered. His original fracture of the ulna is healing adequately, but he has a minor fracture at the head of the radius. Since he’s come this far and seems to be healing well, we’re giving him time to see how this will impact his flight ability.

One of the few calls last week was from a woman who’d found a banded pigeon and wondered what she should do. Since that question comes up at least every couple of months, let me address it here for your edification.

Banded pigeons are racing, or homing, pigeons. Breeders spend vast sums raising them, vaccinating them (they can’t race without a clean bill of health), banding them…and then they load them up, drive several hundred miles from home, release the birds, drive back home, and wait to see how many make it back. Yeah, when you find the logic in that, please let me know.

These birds have no idea how to find food on their own; they’ve been captive raised and had their food provided. They fly until they literally drop from exhaustion and/or hunger, and if they’re lucky, some kind soul sees them and makes sure they have food and water for the several days it takes them to rebuild their energy reserves to complete their journey. Frequently, they become raptor food. Hey, when the buffet is provided…

So what can YOU do if you find a banded pigeon? First, provide food and water; the bird needs both desperately at this point.  A regular wild bird seed mix will be fine; scratch feed is also good. DO NOT offer bread; bread is NOT a suitable food for ANY wildlife.

Once you’ve taken care of the pigeon’s immediate needs, you need to locate the owner. The band contains the info you need to do so. Details on how to do that can be found here: https://www.pigeon.org/lostbirdinfo.htm

Once you’ve located the owner, you can contact him/her to let them know you have their bird. Here’s where it can get downright infuriating. Some owners will flat-out tell you that since the bird didn’t finish the race, they don’t care what you do with it. Others will immediately get directions from you to come get their bird. It’s hit and miss; I’ve had both experiences.

If the owner falls into the “Oh God, I want to strangle you through the phone” category, congratulations, you have a pet pigeon.  He may or may not be socialized, but with time and patience you can have a very affectionate bird. But the homing instinct will always be there, so he can’t be allowed to fly freely, or he’ll be on his way to his “home” where he’s no longer welcome; you’ll need some sort of enclosure (like a flight pen) that will allow him to stretch his wings and fly. Plenty of pigeon breeding sites will provide info on appropriate enclosures, so have fun researching that for yourself.

What, did you think I was gonna do ALL the work for you? That’s what Google’s for!

Sadly, rehabbers occasionally have utterly craptastic weeks, and that was the case at LWR this past week, with a not unusual but still staggering mortality rate for the week. The great blue heron started spitting back undigested food Monday morning and died a couple of hours later. The screech, who was still not flying the length of the raptor flight but getting stronger every day, dropped dead overnight for no apparent reason. The barred owl with the wrist fracture also dropped dead for no discernible reason.
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 The red tail with the suspected spinal injury remained unable to use his legs at all, and while x-rays were inconclusive, we all agreed the lower spine looked odd. He was humanely euthanized.

​The red shoulder whose leg started bleeding out of the blue ended up massively fracturing that leg when we started to x-ray him. I had been treating his leg daily and it was fine; he was putting weight on it; it just had a small wound above the knee, hence the blood last week. However, when we attempted to straighten the leg for x-rays, it quite literally snapped in two, like a twig. Needless to say, the red shoulder required euthanasia too.

​Then, the cherry on top of this godawful week occurred yesterday when I moved the great horneds into the raptor flight and the red tail with the broken wrist into the large crate the younger GHO had been in. The nature of his fracture and his feisty disposition led us to believe he’d be better off without wrapping the wing. This is a judgment call on a wrist fracture, and we usually nail it. Not this time. Mr. Feisty flailed around in his box so much he’s turned a stable fracture into a very unstable one, and he may also require euthanasia. He’ll be headed to Smalley’s next week for re-x-rays to see just how bad the damage is.

​At least the GHOs are doing well in the raptor flight, knock on wood. The younger one is flying pretty well and letting it be known he’s not a happy camper when I walk in to feed them. The older one, who came from UGA’s vet school with a coracoid fracture and a damaged eye, is not flying high or well yet, but that’s normal when recovering from a fracture of any kind—got to “relearn” how to use the affected body part normally again. The eye still looks pretty awful but not near as bad as when he came in. So we’ll see…

The fundraiser ended with 88% of the goal met, $2635 of $3000. Words cannot adequately express my gratitude to those of you who donated; if you missed your chance, the PayPal links on the website will allow you to donate any time. It will be tight, as I was hoping for the small grant (set up by a former area rehabber to be quickly accessible to other area rehabbers with tax-exempt status in a funding crisis, which the committee managing it seems to’ve forgotten) to supplement the fundraiser, but with the $2635 I can at least manage to reopen the doors on a limited basis. We’ll take it on a week-by-week basis, hope for the best, and see how things go—and hope and pray there are no more godawful weeks like this past one (knowing there will be; it’s the nature of the “biz”…). 

Yep, with just five days left in the LWR fundraiser and only $1045 of the needed $3000 raised, LWR is officially not accepting new intakes for the time being.  The funds we currently have on hand will be needed to see the birds already in our care through to release. I’ll continue to provide weekly updates until these birds have been released; after that, who knows? If and when more funds become available, I’ll begin accepting birds again on at least a limited basis, but I’m not optimistic that will happen in the remainder of this year.

No, that’s not a “shock” ploy. It’s the God’s honest truth. The funds just aren’t there, nor are the donations, and this couldn’t have come at a worse time. Any other year, and I’d be breathing flames to try and cajole, harangue and guilt people into donating. This year, I’m still reeling from my father’s death. Just getting through each day is like navigating quicksand. I cannot summon the strength or energy to beg, harangue and cajole people to donate toward the care of our native wildlife, our legacy to future generations. Either you care enough to donate or you don’t; it’s that simple.

To those who have donated, either throughout the year or during this fundraiser, many times from very limited budgets, thank you. I appreciate your support and your sacrifices.

As most of you know by now, wildlife rehabbers receive no state or federal funding; LWR is no exception. None of the funds donated to LWR go toward a “salary” for me; I freelance edit to provide my income. All donations go toward care and upkeep of the wildlife in my care—food, supplies, gas for vet trips, etc. It takes a lot of mice, as I’ve indicated to you over the past month, in addition to boxes and puppy pads to line the boxes for the raptors; paper towels, insects and formula for the songbirds and tissues to line songbird nests; fish for the waterfowl; formula, bedding, mealworms and seeds, fruits and nuts for the flying squirrels; equipment wears out and must be repaired or replaced…And these are just the normal, ongoing expenses that immediately come to mind; I’m sure there’s something I’ve left out.

The point is, again, the funds aren’t there to continue to accept intakes, not unless I plan to start transferring birds in my care to other already overburdened rehabbers as my funds run out. At least by not accepting new intakes I can ensure the birds currently at LWR can be released without transfer to someone else. Beyond that, as I said, we’ll see.
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There’s still time to donate toward the care of the birds currently at LWR—and even time for a miracle influx of funds, perhaps, although miracles seem to be in short supply these days. Again, I’m deeply appreciative to those of you who’ve donated, sometimes even through your own cash shortages. 

​LWR did accept a few new intakes this week, before it became obvious this was going to be untenable in the long run. An adult great blue heron was dumped at Smalley’s Animal Hospital; x-rays showed no wing fractures but what appeared on the body x-ray to be a coracoid fracture. He’s doing well, although he refuses to stand any time I’m near him; as soon as he sees me he hunkers down. Great blue herons are actually pretty shy birds, so his behavior is not unusual.

​An adult red shoulder hawk came in with no apparent wing injuries, although he favored his left wing a bit.  Within eight hours of intake, his right leg had begun to bleed profusely, despite the fact that an intake exam showed no wounds on the leg. He’s also keeping that foot balled now. Obviously, a trip to Smalley’s is in his immediate future.

​When a lady hit a first-year red tailed hawk, she did the responsible, humane thing and sought help for the bird. He has no movement and no neural response in his legs, which could as easily be from pinched nerves as from a fractured spine. His appetite is good so he’ll also be headed to Smalley’s for x-rays to determine his fate.

​The screech finally got his turn in the raptor flight and is slated for release as soon as his flight skills improve and he passes the live prey test.

Waiting to take his place, we have the two great horned owls; by the time they’re out, the red tail and barred owl from last week, both with similar wrist fractures, should be ready to have their separate turns in the raptor flight.

Again, I’ll keep you updated on these birds’ progress, so at least for a while you’ll still get weekly updates. Meanwhile, pray for that miracle so we can begin accepting intakes again, and donate toward making that possible if you can.

It was a fairly slow week, with the usual mix of the good, the bad and the ugly…

First, though, a reminder that the LWR fundraiser is still ongoing. With 12 days left, you’ve donated—well, some of you have, anyway—$965 toward the $3000 goal. That’s about 32% of the goal. 

In case you're wondering just how expensive mice to feed the raptors are, let me clue you in: first of the week, I placed an order for 6 bags of "crawler" mice (good for babies and debilitated adults), 5 bags of medium mice and 6 bags of large mice. That's 300 crawlers, 250 mediums and 300 large. The total bill? $564. Yeah, for those few mice.

How far will those—let's use the large—mice go? Well, currently LWR has four large raptors who eat 4 large mice a day. That’s 16 mice a day, times 7 days in a week; that’s 112 mice a week. 300 divided by 112 is...just under three weeks. THREE WEEKS. And that’s not including any new intakes; that’s just what’s currently “in house.” Then we'll switch to the mediums, which will disappear even quicker because it'll take more of them, and then I’ll dip into LWR’s ever-dwindling funds to order more mice. This is a regular routine, at least twice a month and sometimes thrice a month.

Feeding these birds ain't cheap, people. Every bit you can donate will help keep them fed.

And yes, I could “sell out” and more than likely easily have the funds if I accepted the occasional offers to be part of a reality TV show based on wildlife rehab. I hear those pay pretty well, but I also refuse to subject the wildlife under my care to that level of stress. I’ve read about how those shows are done, and I can promise you it’s not in the best interest of the animals. The most recent reality TV offer I had came just after Daddy’s death.  Below is part of the reply I sent them:

Thanks for your interest in our native Southern wildlife...I don’t do this for publicity, reality shows or any such voyeuristic nonsense; the only reason I even have a FB page, website and blog is it’s necessary for LWR’s 501c3 status. Sorry to be so brief and abrupt but I’m really swamped and I honestly despise reality TV.

Yeah, I’m sure that didn’t win me any fans among the producers, but I don’t care. My job as a wildlife rehabber is to care for the critters in my care to the best of my ability, return as many as feasible to the wild, and humanely end the suffering of those that cannot be returned to the wild. It doesn’t include shoving them in front of TV cameras, under bright lights, to have multiple “takes” done of an exam so the producers can get the “perfect” shot. Screw ‘em. The welfare of the wildlife comes first, always.
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And so I’m relegated to asking the public—that’s YOU—for donations to keep LWR up and running. Please do donate if you haven’t already. 

And speaking of wildlife, both the red tail and the barred owl did have wing fractures near the wrist, as I suspected—and both fractures were in approximately the same location, leading vet Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s to exclaim, “It’s the injury of the day, apparently!”

Luckily, neither fracture was badly displaced, and we’re hopeful they’ll both heal for flight. That close to the joint, it may be iffy. We’ll see.
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The barred owl does also have some clouding in his left eye but that should clear with time. He’s a pretty calm fellow.

​The red tail, however, is a feisty first-year bird who refuses to acknowledge that he needs cage rest. I’m not his favorite person right now, ‘cause I refuse to allow him to attempt to fly away with a broken wing. Go figure, right? But he eats well!

While we were working on these two beauties, a vulture was dropped off at Smalley’s, as well. (I'd spoken to the person on the phone while awaiting vet exams on the hawk and owl and told him to bring the bird to Smalley's.) He was a first-year turkey vulture whose x-rays showed no fractures but he was severely neurological. Peggy and I agreed that given the level of neurological issues the bird was having—unable to stand, unable to lift his head, unable to keep his eyes open more than a few seconds—our kindest option was euthanasia. 
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The Carolina wren hatchlings and eggs survived the night; both eggs hatched, sort of. One hatched and died by noon; the other broke open enough shell to expose his beak and feet and died before completing his hatch. This all happened before 6AM, as I found the poor unsuccessful hatch first thing that morning. Throughout the day, the original two hatchlings also died. Honestly, I think they get something akin to mammal colostrum from their parents’ saliva, and probiotics just aren’t a sufficient substitute.

The older Caros were doing quite well and then started crashing. It’s a cyclical thing—for several years I had great success with wrens; then my release rate dropped to almost nil for the past few years. They’re such stressy little birds…

The finch and mocker were released. I’d released them before I realized I had no photos of them in the songbird flight—been a busy editing week, with back-to-back deadlines, so it just didn’t cross my mind till it was too late. Neither is coming down for handouts but I do occasionally see and hear them.

A nestling mocker was found on the ground and brought to LWR early in the week; he’d been seen very early in the day but the original spotter “didn’t want to get whacked in the head” by the parents, so he was left on the ground, exposed to the elements, all day. People, mockers are SONGBIRDS. If they whack you in the head, it’s not even gonna sting like an NCIS Gibbs-style head slap, okay? I mean, really…
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At any rate, the poor fellow was in pretty bad shape and, adding insult to injury, he was dumped into a plastic container with water in the bottom, so when he reached LWR, he was weak, lethargic, soaked and chilled to the bone. He didn’t survive the night.

​The week ended with the arrival of an adult red shoulder who’d apparently been seen by the roadside for several days before any-damn-body decided to take action. He was starvation-thin—see the photo of his exposed keel (breastbone)—and he had an open wing fracture. Maggots had already eaten most of the flesh from the wing, as well. He was humanely euthanized.

The last of the MIKIs to come in, the one who wasn’t released last week, spent two days in the raptor flight, without flying that I ever saw, before apparently dropping dead during the night. He wasn’t near a wall, so I don’t think he broke his neck—especially given that I never saw him fly at all, despite having no fractures. There was apparently something else going on with the poor fellow.

The screech is slated for the raptor flight this week, to be followed by the great horneds as quickly as possible.
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It’s a constant juggling act with these birds!

​As of yesterday, the LWR fundraiser was at $595, 20% of our goal of $3000. Heartfelt thanks to those who’ve donated and if you haven’t donated yet, time’s a-wastin’!

​The big news is kite releases! All four MIKIs and the swallow tail were released this afternoon! The swallow tail’s x-ray showed a beautifully healed wing and after a week in the raptor flight he made it clear he was as antsy as the MIKIs for freedom. Rain delayed their release till today, though—and I also waited till my niece was available to help me chase down and net any birds that might have run into difficulty at release. Fortunately, we had five smooth releases, three of which we caught on video.

Three of last week’s late intakes, the cardinal, the blue jay and the mocker, didn’t make it; the house finch is headed for the songbird flight this week, where he’ll be joined by another mocker that came in late this week. I tried for photos of the finch and this week’s mocker but the mocker kept jumping out of the pen, leading me on a not-so-merry chase given that I’m still limping around.
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In new intakes, a gorgeous first-year red tail came in with a broken wing and is slated for x-rays early this week, along with this barred owl, who in addition to a damaged eye also has a broken wing. I’m cautiously optimistic for the red tail; the owl’s fracture feels like it’s right at the joint of his wrist. Not so good…

​Another young MIKI came in and will be placed in the raptor flight this week so he can be on his way to make migration ASAP.

​This hummingbird is a window-strike victim; his wing is broken right at the shoulder. This doesn’t bode well, as hummers have to be able to move their wings in a figure 8 in order to fly, but we’ll give him some time to hopefully prove me wrong.

​When a Carolina wren built a nest in her mailbox, the owner tried to get her mail carrier to hold her mail until the babies fledged; the carrier refused and even dumped mail on top of the babies and closed the box to prevent the parents from feeding them. A friend saw this and took the babies out of the mailbox before they got crushed or starved to death. No one will give me the carrier’s name or that person would be reported for being a colossal jackass in addition to disturbing an active nest, which is a violation of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. Thus far these babies are doing well.

​Two newly-hatched Carolina wrens and two unhatched eggs came in this evening after the mother was found dead in front of the nest. Honestly, babies this young have very slim chances of survival, and while it’s possible the eggs may hatch, it’s not likely, as we don’t know how long they were without heat.

​Both great horned owls are awaiting their turn in the raptor flight—after the latest MIKI shows his flight skills—and then the screech owl will finally get his turn at flight.

​And just a reminder—the fundraiser runs till the end of the month, unless the goal is met earlier. That would be “loverly” for everybody!

​Yeah, it’s that time of year. I managed this year to hold off coming to you, hat in hand, till August, though, so there’s that, at least. Briefly, here’s the situation: raptors, which LWR sees more and more of each year, are costly to rehab. Add to their mice costs the costs of insects and formula for both songbirds and flying squirrels, plus replacing feeding syringes, bedding, nest boxes, etc., that wear out yearly from heavy use, and well, it gets expensive. The LWR account is down to just over $900 at the moment, with five months left in the year—that won’t cover enough mice to see us through December, given that the fall of the year is when we start seeing intakes of migrating raptors and first-year raptors looking for a territory to claim…and there’s always the very real chance we’ll see baby barn owls in the fall, as barnies have no set breeding season. So I’m aiming at $3000 for this fundraiser, to see us through the end of the year. Please donate as generously as you can to help keep these birds (and flyers) fed!

​Now on to more pleasant topics: after a week of rain, the skies finally cleared late Friday and the songbird flight quickly emptied Saturday as restive birds took advantage of the open “escape hatch.” Three blue jays, the loggerhead shrike and the robin have joined the jay and grackle who’re still coming down for handouts, so it gets…interesting walking in my yard these days.

​Two more MIKIs came in, one a slightly older bird and the other about the same age as the original three. Unfortunately, the second MIKI of the week, who seemed alert, with no fractures and a healthy weight and appetite, died the night of intake. That came outta nowhere, lemme tell ya. I walked in the next morning and as I flipped on the lights, it looked like the two newest arrivals were cuddled together—and they were, sort of. The older one was nestled next to the body of the younger one, who had not a mark on him but was already in rigor. Not the best way to start your morning.

​Looking at the calendar, I realized we needed some “fruitbasket turnover.” The MIKIs have to be ready for migration, and soon—by the end of this month, optimally. So the younger GHO had to come back inside while the MIKIs all went out to the raptor flight. So far they’re acting like awkward little doofuses, giving me cause to wonder if they’ll even survive migration. They need to get their acts together pronto.

Last Sunday’s mocker and dove both died overnight, which I can’t say I was surprised about. Both were suspected HBC (hit by car) and there were apparently internal injuries for both.

This osprey was just as unlucky. He was rescued from a lake in a neighboring county and taken to a vet clinic there, from whence he came to me—crammed in a cat-sized pet crate.

I don’t like pet crates for transporting birds—for one thing, they run the risk of injuring themselves or worsening an injury while struggling to get out; for another, extracting them from a pet crate also must be done carefully to avoid injuring the bird or exacerbating an existing injury. Trust me, there is a VALID, LOGICAL reason rehabbers request that you bring wildlife to them in CARDBOARD BOXES. Cardboard “breathes” so you can close the flaps without worry. It’s dark inside, calming the wildlife. The risk of the wildlife doing further damage to itself in the box is low. And it’s easier for the rehabber to extract the wildlife.
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At any rate, the poor bird’s wing was broken at the wrist and, probably in the struggle to get him in the crate, it had become an open fracture—there was fresh blood and lots of it on the wing. He required euthanasia.

The older GHO and the swallowtail kite continue to heal; the swallowtail is due for a follow-up vet visit this week. To be honest, the way he’s flung himself around two consecutively smaller boxes, I’m not hopeful he’s allowed that wing to heal, but we’ll see.
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This mocker was found in the middle of the road, with nary a nest in sight. He’s doing well but is a food slinger, necessitating thorough cleaning after EVERY feeding (photo is post-feeding, pre-cleaning, as he’s quite...um…unhappy post-cleaning).  Yeah, I’ll be one more happy rehabber when he starts self-feeding on the mealworms in his box!

​When callers said they found a young cardinal beneath their window, I recommended they box him up, place him in a cool, quiet, dark place, and give him a few hours to see if he was just stunned. Several hours later they called to report he was still unable to fly. Nothing appears broken, so we may just have lingering head trauma. We’ll see how things progress.

​And this nestling house finch is just days away from fledging but his finders said he was alone in the nest and refused to remain in the nest, although his wing feathers are still half-sheathed, after they re-nested him several times. They saw no adults. Who knows? At this point in the year, like most rehabbers, I’ve given up trying to make sense of how babies end up in our care.

​Just a closing reminder—please donate as generously as you can to the fundraiser. Your donations are tax-deductible, plus you get the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing you did your part to help our native wildlife!

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.
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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.
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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.
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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.

We’ve had a spate of bad weather in the Middle Georgia area, and that always means more intakes…and boy howdy, was last week busy!

On Monday alone, six birds came in; the total for the week was 16—that’s in addition to the Lord-knows-how-many already in care. I honestly haven’t stopped to count.
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The highlight of the week, though—for me, anyway—was this precious loggerhead shrike fledgling. He’d been taken away from a dog and acted really neurological when he came in, which lowered my hopes considerably. I’ve only had one other shrike, a juvie with a ruptured lung, some 10-12 years ago. I remember this because I think shrikes are just plain cool birds that I never get to see in rehab. They’re like dwarf raptors with a unique twist: they impale their prey, usually insects but also small mice, on large thorns or barbed-wire fences.

​To my delight, however, the sweet bird’s neuro issues began to lessen and within four days he was perching and acting almost normal. His tail still skews a bit and if he gets nervous, his head will jerk slightly, so he’s not in the songbird flight yet, but if he continues to improve he will be soon!

​This first-year red tail wasn’t as lucky; he came in acting really stunned and out of it and unable to stand. X-rays revealed a badly fractured femur. He required euthanasia.

UGA never sent the x-rays on the GHO, and quite honestly, I prefer for my vets to see the birds anyway; I know their skill and knowledge levels and I’m more comfortable hearing their prognosis. Since I had to take the red tail in for x-rays anyway, I asked if we could also check out the GHO. Vet Peggy Hobby at Smalley’s agrees the coracoid fracture should heal fine. The eye is iffy; we’ll see what transpires as we wait on the coracoid fracture to heal.

​The juvie Coop was released before he could break his own fool neck; he didn’t waste any time getting away from human taint. No video, and I barely managed a photo; he was at the limit of my camera’s zoom!

The juvie red shoulder is in the raptor flight now, and there are no photos; he’s not impressing me with his flight ability. He has no altitude and doesn’t seem to recognize food out in the open. He’s been in the flight for almost a week now; he has another few days before we call it.

The near-fledgling mocker that I forgot to get a photo of last week is now gone after several days in the songbird flight. He was bouncing off the walls, literally, so it seemed wise to offer him his freedom before he did something stupid.
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The robin, however, shows no signs of wanting to give up free meals and has been joined by three blue jays who were about one day from fledging when the tree their nest was in fell during a storm. While the parents were around, according to the finder, so were several stray cats, so she was scared to attempt a makeshift nest. 

There really are three jays; one refuses to hang out with anybody else. Even when they came in, he was in one corner of the box the finder had them in and his sibs were in the other. He watches me interact with the others like a hawk but he will not to save his life join the crowd!

Songbirds who didn’t make it included two nestling mockers, both of last week’s Carolina wrens, a pre-fledgling red-bellied woodpecker and a sweet little kingbird nestling, slightly older than the recently released one was when it came in. I have no clue why any of these birds died. We don’t know their full back stories when they come in; the finders only know what they saw when they picked the birds up. It can be incredibly frustrating at times.

Another juvie grackle came in; this one had been kept for two weeks before the finder “miraculously” discovered LWR. Surprisingly, despite a crap diet he was in fairly good shape except for some screwy tail feathers. Since he was self-feeding, he spent a few days in the songbird flight and opted for release when the mocker left.
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The MIKIs are maturing beautifully; the adult swallow-tail enjoys trying my patience. The screech has totally mastered the art of stink-eye. And the juvie GHO is awaiting his turn in the raptor flight. By rights he should’ve gone first, before the hawks, but with the adult GHO coming in, I decided it might be best to wait and place them out there together so the adult can teach “Junior” the ropes.

​This tree swallow also looks to possibly have a coracoid fracture. It’s easier to see on x-rays with a larger bird; sometimes you can’t see it at all on smaller birds. We’re giving him time and cage rest to see what happens.

​A young hummer was found caught in a spider web in a lady’s garage; she managed to get the web off the wings and body but was scared to mess with his tiny feet. She brought him to LWR, where the webs were removed from his feet, he was given a spot of food, and after a thorough checkup, was released.

​This adult male isn’t as lucky; he has a broken wing and, based on his rough appearance, I’d say something else is going on, as well. His chances aren’t good.

​Another red tail, this one a second-year bird, came in via DNR. The game warden who brought him was hopeful he was only mildly concussed, and that appears to be the case. He’s alert, active and aggressive and will be released early in the week.

This rail-thin young red shoulder, weighing just 245g on intake, was so weak he allowed his finders to pick him up and handle him bare-handed, as did I when assessing him on intake. (That's NOT assessment in the video; it's just showing you how docile he was.) He had small frequent meals Saturday and spent the time between meals with his head tucked. To be honest, I cringed when I peered in his box this morning, expecting the worst, but he was alert and looking for food. After he eagerly ate a breakfast of chopped-up mice, I tried him a few hours later on a small whole mouse, which he inhaled. Later he devoured two small mice back to back. He’s more alert; his eyes look brighter—I think he was found just in time.

​And tonight, a couple brought a nestling brown thrasher they found in the middle of the road. His right leg looks dislocated, although the swelling might be hiding a fracture. We’ll know after getting x-rays. He has some grip with that foot and can move the leg slightly, so I’m cautiously optimistic.

​Finally, colleague Kathryn Dudeck of Chattahoochee Nature Center reports that the last of the five barnies I transferred to her when Daddy went on hospice has been released. Good news, and thanks again, Kathryn!