The squirrels are growing like weeds; the two older ones have now been moved to the porch cage as they’re being weaned from formula.
The younger guy still spends a lot of time napping.
This totally out-of-season hatchling Carolina wren came in last week, struggling to survive. Well, that’s not accurate. He was determined to die; I was determined he’d live. He was dehydrated; I gave him fluids. He struggled to breathe; I started antibiotics. He threw up his food; I treated that. We had a brief stalemate, but ultimately, he won. I don’t like to lose, particularly when a little life is at stake, but whatever his issues were, my efforts were apparently too little, too late.
I had higher hopes for this cat-attacked hummer. Aside from a small scrape on his side, he didn’t seem injured. Both wings functioned, but he couldn’t fly, which I figured was due to the location of the scrape, making it painful to move those muscles. Still, I treat any critter taken from a cat with antibiotics: as I’ve mentioned before, cat saliva is toxic to pretty much everything; it contains bacteria that break down flesh.
He ate well but never seemed quite “right.” Still, he was alert and fairly active, so things seemed to be going well. Five days into his treatment, he was fine when I uncovered the hummer cage that morning; within four hours, he was struggling to breathe. I have no clue why. After all my attempts to help him failed, I made the decision to euthanize; there was no sense in allowing him to continue to suffer.
The nonreleasable female is now alone again, not that it seems to faze her. I feel bad for her, but she doesn’t seem worried. She’s busy as a bee in her little cage, and about the nosiest little thing I’ve ever seen. Nothing—and I mean NOTHING—escapes her notice!
The nonreleasable female is now alone again, not that it seems to faze her. I feel bad for her, but she doesn’t seem worried. She’s busy as a bee in her little cage, and about the nosiest little thing I’ve ever seen. Nothing—and I mean NOTHING—escapes her notice!
This nestling Eurasian collared dove came in a few days ago. They’re actually an invasive species and are larger than mourning doves, but data from Cornell’s Project Feeder Watch would seem to indicate that both species co-exist peacefully.
Doves of all species are such awkward looking babies—they remind me of a cactus!
Doves of all species are such awkward looking babies—they remind me of a cactus!
Eurasian collared dove on intake
What a difference only a couple of days makes!
Sunday, this pre-fledgling mourning dove came in. The finder’s dog found him; luckily, the dove wasn’t injured.
Here’s a shot of the two doves with a Coke can for scale and for size comparison.
And tonight I got a call about an injured falcon. We don’t have falcons in Middle Georgia, as we don’t have the proper nesting sites for them, so I guessed the caller had a kestrel or maybe one of the smaller hawks. When we met, however, it turned out to be a first-year red tail. She’s smallish, but based on the feet size, I’m pretty sure she is, in fact, female.
Nothing seems to be broken, but she is on the thin side and the inside of her mouth is pale to the point of almost being white. Her throat, which I thought in the semi-dark, cursory parking lot exam showed signs of frounce, is actually clear. She’s been given fluids, treated for capillaria, and hand-fed a small mouse, chopped up. She ate, but reluctantly, which could still indicate frounce that I can’t see yet, so I’ll start her on meds for that in the morning.
And finally, I guess most of you know that Aug. 31 was a blue moon, the second full moon in the month. This doesn’t happen often, hence the expression “once in a blue moon.” In fact, I believe I read that the next blue moon won’t be until 2015! So…here’s a photo of the August 31, 2012 blue moon. Enjoy!
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