It’s late in the season, I’m exhausted, my house could easily be declared a disaster area, and it’s been one of those weeks that has me counting the days till the end of August, when baby bird season will begin to taper off. Every year it comes to this: I try to do too much with too little (time, money and sleep) and end up frustrated and questioning my sanity and my ability to continue…Being a fan of alliteration, I describe this as my “sleep-deprived, surly and stupid” phase.
I have birds in the flight pen that need to be released, but the rain won’t stop. I have birds in the house that need to be in the flight pen, but the rain won’t stop. My flight pen is a sodden mess, and the rain won’t stop…And I’m trying really hard not to complain about the rain—even after the branch across the road from my house briefly overflowed its banks and streamed across the road into my yard, which is already a swamp since THE RAIN WON’T STOP—because after several too-dry summers, Georgia needed the rain to replenish the ground water levels.
Adding to that, the bread-fed mocker from last week didn’t make it, one of last week’s Carolina wrens died, the “snowshoe” blue jay’s feet don’t seem to be straightening out and he doesn’t appear to be able to fly, and Igor the crow’s right wing was perfectly fine at lights-out last night and is drooping badly today, although I can’t find a break or any reason for the droop.
I have birds in the flight pen that need to be released, but the rain won’t stop. I have birds in the house that need to be in the flight pen, but the rain won’t stop. My flight pen is a sodden mess, and the rain won’t stop…And I’m trying really hard not to complain about the rain—even after the branch across the road from my house briefly overflowed its banks and streamed across the road into my yard, which is already a swamp since THE RAIN WON’T STOP—because after several too-dry summers, Georgia needed the rain to replenish the ground water levels.
Adding to that, the bread-fed mocker from last week didn’t make it, one of last week’s Carolina wrens died, the “snowshoe” blue jay’s feet don’t seem to be straightening out and he doesn’t appear to be able to fly, and Igor the crow’s right wing was perfectly fine at lights-out last night and is drooping badly today, although I can’t find a break or any reason for the droop.
Someone just finished their bath!
Look at those gorgeous eyes!
Wanna scream? Me? Actually, no. I’d settle for about 12 hours’ uninterrupted sleep…Then maybe I’d feel up to dealing with all the routine rehab events that suddenly become magnified out of proportion when you’re chronically sleep-deprived, leaving you feeling ineffective and ineffectual—and there is a difference between the two words; check it out if you don’t believe me. (See? Even in the midst of a sleep-deprived whine-fest, I can still find time to improve your vocabulary/grammar!)
*sigh* On to this week’s mayhem…
This barred owl’s wing isn’t fractured too badly and he’s eating well, so he should be an excellent candidate for release in a few months.
*sigh* On to this week’s mayhem…
This barred owl’s wing isn’t fractured too badly and he’s eating well, so he should be an excellent candidate for release in a few months.
A young lady was sitting in her yard when she heard a crash and turned to see a limb disintegrate as it hit her swing. Unfortunately, these red bellied woodpeckers were in a nest cavity in that limb…and they were mere days away from fledging…
After a few days inside, to make sure they trusted me enough to accept supplemental feedings, I moved their new “nest” into the flight pen to allow them to “fledge” as naturally as possible. The video below is a record of the hesitation, false starts and, for one baby, outright refusal to leave the nest!
Hummers can be problematic. This little guy was still gaping inconsistently and sipping from a syringe, as well. His wings were level, but he didn’t seem to be able to fly. I chalked it up to being too young and having fallen from the nest too early. That is, until he dropped dead in the 20 minutes between feedings less than 24 hours after intake. Now, I don’t know…he was alert; he ate well; his poop looked good…I dunno…
This hummer, who came in today, has an obvious wing injury, probably a fracture. He also refuses to gape, won’t sip from a syringe and won’t self-feed. This means I’m having to force feed, which is not only exasperating when I’m already feeling overloaded, it’s also a tricky procedure with a beak that tiny and delicate.
Another barred owl also came in today, not as lucky as the first. This young one’s right leg and wing are both pretty much trashed. He and I will be making that final vet visit tomorrow.
The remaining two Carolina wrens are ready for the flight pen.
Another Carolina wren hatchling came in Friday. His little eyes started opening yesterday.
The cardinal is in the flight pen now, along with the older blue jay and the blue grosbeak...and the red bellies.
And because I know some of you don’t like graphic photos of injuries, I’ve put this next intake last. Scroll quickly past the photos if bloody messes make you ill.
When a caller said he had an injured hawk and there was blood, my first thought was an open wing or leg fracture. I met the finder and when he opened his truck door to reveal a largish first-year female red tail sitting unrestrained in the passenger-side floorboard, my immediate reaction was to open my mouth to lecture him on safe transport. That is, until I saw the nature of her injury and was stunned into silence.
She had apparently been hit by a car and her crop was ruptured. I honestly couldn’t tell what bloody bits were food falling from what had been a full crop and what was the crop itself. I could actually see the vertebrae in her neck in the gaping hole in her throat. Her right foot was balling, and her poop was black and tarry. Basically, this gorgeous lady was done for.
I called Smalley’s Animal Hospital to alert them that I was on my way with an emergency euthanasia. Vets Peggy Hobby and Richie Hatcher both cringed when they saw this otherwise gorgeous and fairly well-fleshed bird’s mangled crop. There was nothing we could do but end her suffering.
When a caller said he had an injured hawk and there was blood, my first thought was an open wing or leg fracture. I met the finder and when he opened his truck door to reveal a largish first-year female red tail sitting unrestrained in the passenger-side floorboard, my immediate reaction was to open my mouth to lecture him on safe transport. That is, until I saw the nature of her injury and was stunned into silence.
She had apparently been hit by a car and her crop was ruptured. I honestly couldn’t tell what bloody bits were food falling from what had been a full crop and what was the crop itself. I could actually see the vertebrae in her neck in the gaping hole in her throat. Her right foot was balling, and her poop was black and tarry. Basically, this gorgeous lady was done for.
I called Smalley’s Animal Hospital to alert them that I was on my way with an emergency euthanasia. Vets Peggy Hobby and Richie Hatcher both cringed when they saw this otherwise gorgeous and fairly well-fleshed bird’s mangled crop. There was nothing we could do but end her suffering.
I’d say here’s hoping this week’s better, but it’s already gotten off to an unpromising start with the second hummer and second barred owl…
Welcome to the world of wildlife rehab. I wish it was all cute and cuddly and fun like people seem to think it is. The sad reality is that this week is more typical than any rehabber would like to admit…and weeks like this overshadow the ones where we have savable wildlife or successful releases. I can promise you, when we finally drop into bed, dead-tired, and still can’t sleep, it’s the weeks like this that replay over and over in our minds…That’s why when people ask me why I rehab, my immediate response is one word: insanity.
Welcome to the world of wildlife rehab. I wish it was all cute and cuddly and fun like people seem to think it is. The sad reality is that this week is more typical than any rehabber would like to admit…and weeks like this overshadow the ones where we have savable wildlife or successful releases. I can promise you, when we finally drop into bed, dead-tired, and still can’t sleep, it’s the weeks like this that replay over and over in our minds…That’s why when people ask me why I rehab, my immediate response is one word: insanity.
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