I don’t even know where to begin…With the 25 new intakes in one week and their various issues or the progress or lack thereof of the ongoing LWR guests?
Let’s start with a release or three: the GHOs were released early last week and in typical GHO doofusy fashion, only one actually produced a halfway decent video. The second flew off before I could get the camera even aimed at him; the third tipped his box over, came out on the ground in full threat display, and when I turned off the camera and started toward him to check him out, he flew off…This, people, is why I prefer not to have an audience at releases. Ya never know what you’re gonna get: great photo ops or a scene from a Three Stooges movie!
Let’s start with a release or three: the GHOs were released early last week and in typical GHO doofusy fashion, only one actually produced a halfway decent video. The second flew off before I could get the camera even aimed at him; the third tipped his box over, came out on the ground in full threat display, and when I turned off the camera and started toward him to check him out, he flew off…This, people, is why I prefer not to have an audience at releases. Ya never know what you’re gonna get: great photo ops or a scene from a Three Stooges movie!
With the GHOs free now, the five fledgling red shoulders moved into the raptor flight. Unlike owls, red shoulders don’t cluster together for nice photo ops. Below is the best I’ve managed.
The flyers transferred from Libby for release took a few days before leaving on separate nights, but they did finally succumb to the siren call of my local colony of flyers.
The week wasn’t without its share of sadness, of course—what week in wildlife rehab is? Both the adult screech with the eye injury and the fledgling screech with the foot issues required euthanasia, and another damn snake got into the songbird flight and ate the blue jay. Needless to say, nothing else has been placed in the songbird flight until I finish giving it a thorough inspection to determine how, after two snake-free years, they’re suddenly managing to get in.
The mocker nestling who’d been rescued from ants didn’t make it, and the fledgling mocker who’d been rescued from an avian beat-down last Sunday is looking highly suspect today; I don’t know what’s up with him, but I highly doubt he’ll be with us tomorrow.
The red tail and pileated recovering from wing fractures continue to do well, as does the barred owl whose release seemed a sure thing last week. We tried; he refused. Apparently he needed a few more days’ R&R at the LWR Bed & Breakfast.
The remaining fledgling screech is doing the usual “drive the rehabber insane” routine: eating well one day, refusing to eat the next, acting normal one day, acting “off” the next…I swear they do this stuff deliberately to see how big a panic they can send rehabbers into…
The mocker nestling who’d been rescued from ants didn’t make it, and the fledgling mocker who’d been rescued from an avian beat-down last Sunday is looking highly suspect today; I don’t know what’s up with him, but I highly doubt he’ll be with us tomorrow.
The red tail and pileated recovering from wing fractures continue to do well, as does the barred owl whose release seemed a sure thing last week. We tried; he refused. Apparently he needed a few more days’ R&R at the LWR Bed & Breakfast.
The remaining fledgling screech is doing the usual “drive the rehabber insane” routine: eating well one day, refusing to eat the next, acting normal one day, acting “off” the next…I swear they do this stuff deliberately to see how big a panic they can send rehabbers into…
The nestling red shoulder has outgrown his tiny box and now has new digs.
In terms of new intakes, well, grab a drink and a snack and get comfy; we’re gonna be a while…
This fledgling barn owl was found alone inside an old house, rail thin and lethargic. The family who found him knew they had barnies nesting in the old house but thought they’d all fledged until they found this poor fellow. After a few days of force-feeding, he finally decided he preferred to eat on his own and is acting like a real barnie now. In a few days, he’ll be transferred to Bubba & Friends raptor rehab, where Steve Hicks has, at last count, nine—I think—barnies, so he’ll be with a good group of his “kin.”
This fledgling barn owl was found alone inside an old house, rail thin and lethargic. The family who found him knew they had barnies nesting in the old house but thought they’d all fledged until they found this poor fellow. After a few days of force-feeding, he finally decided he preferred to eat on his own and is acting like a real barnie now. In a few days, he’ll be transferred to Bubba & Friends raptor rehab, where Steve Hicks has, at last count, nine—I think—barnies, so he’ll be with a good group of his “kin.”
When a family heard a commotion on their porch at midnight, they rushed out to find three pre-fledgling brown thrashers, one in the cat’s mouth, one in the dog’s mouth and one free. The cat-attack victim had a severely broken leg; it wasn’t fixable and he required euthanasia. The other two are doing great and will be ready for the songbird flight as soon as I’m sure I’ve snake-proofed it.
Late last week I got a call from a person who’d “rescued” 10 wood ducklings when they “fell from the tree.” People, wood ducklings hatch and then free-fall from the tree to the ground, where they bounce once or twice and set off after Mama Woodie to head for the nearest water source. He kidnapped these babies. My voicemail message clearly states if callers can’t or won’t bring me wildlife, they are not to leave a message. He not only left a message; in that message he stated that he was willing and able to bring me the ducklings.
When I called him back, he said his children had been “playing” with the ducklings for five hours. I explained that he had, in fact, kidnapped the ducklings and that his children needed to leave them alone, as they’re high-stress birds. He then said that he’d get them to me as soon as his children got out of the pool. Three hours later, no ducklings, no replies to texts or calls. I reported him to the game warden and wrote the poor wood ducklings off as dead, given that the idiot admitted he didn’t know how to care for them.
God bless my game wardens; Dan Stiles, who took this case, didn’t give up until he located the ducklings. The original caller had given them to a buddy who raised game fowl, who KNEW he wasn’t supposed to have the ducklings but took them anyway. Both jackasses got reamed by Dan, who confiscated the nine surviving babies and brought them to LWR.
Within 24 hours we lost two more; the remaining seven are thriving and just as adorable as they can be.
When I called him back, he said his children had been “playing” with the ducklings for five hours. I explained that he had, in fact, kidnapped the ducklings and that his children needed to leave them alone, as they’re high-stress birds. He then said that he’d get them to me as soon as his children got out of the pool. Three hours later, no ducklings, no replies to texts or calls. I reported him to the game warden and wrote the poor wood ducklings off as dead, given that the idiot admitted he didn’t know how to care for them.
God bless my game wardens; Dan Stiles, who took this case, didn’t give up until he located the ducklings. The original caller had given them to a buddy who raised game fowl, who KNEW he wasn’t supposed to have the ducklings but took them anyway. Both jackasses got reamed by Dan, who confiscated the nine surviving babies and brought them to LWR.
Within 24 hours we lost two more; the remaining seven are thriving and just as adorable as they can be.
When people noticed a great blue heron hanging around and acting odd, not flying away when approached, they called one of LWR’s volunteer transporters, who got the bird and brought it here. He was thin, but most herons tend to be on the thin side. His eyes were bright and clear; he was alert; nothing was broken. I was stymied, so I called colleague Grace Krick in Connecticut, who’s my go-to for waterfowl questions. Other than suggesting treating for parasites, which is standard protocol for waterfowl, she agreed that it was puzzling. He was keeping down his food, standing upright—nothing seemed wrong and yet something obviously was.
The next day he started throwing his food up and by that night was unable to stand. The final straw was when he started having seizures just before lights-out. No bird is going to suffer like that on my watch. I euthanized him that night.
The next day he started throwing his food up and by that night was unable to stand. The final straw was when he started having seizures just before lights-out. No bird is going to suffer like that on my watch. I euthanized him that night.
About midweek a worker at a dog and cat rescue called LWR reporting that a teenage girl had called the rescue stating that three baby birds “just showed up” in her bathroom. A volunteer transporter met the teen, who thrust the box of birds at her and drove away before the volunteer could ask any questions, and when she texted me a photo of the birds, they were killdeer. I promise you, ain’t no way three tiny killdeer “just showed up” in that girl’s bathroom. I called the rescue worker back to see if she could contact the girl for more info, and she said the teen was sticking to her story.
They were weak and lethargic on intake, and given their general stressiness, I figured they were done for.
They were weak and lethargic on intake, and given their general stressiness, I figured they were done for.
And hot on their heels, a woman called “for another child,” not her son, and said he’d found a baby bird in his yard and took it inside. When she texted me a photo, guess what it was? Yep, another killdeer. And when they arrived with the bird, the pre-teen had given it milk. I sorta lost it at this point and just looked him straight in the eye and informed him, “Birds don’t have boobs. You may have just killed this bird; birds can’t digest milk.”
This little bird was in even worse shape from milk and overhandling. I put him with the other three, fully expecting to lose all four overnight.
To my surprise and delight, they’re doing well—not as active or vocal as the older killdeer quartet were when they came in, but eating and peeping quietly.
This little bird was in even worse shape from milk and overhandling. I put him with the other three, fully expecting to lose all four overnight.
To my surprise and delight, they’re doing well—not as active or vocal as the older killdeer quartet were when they came in, but eating and peeping quietly.
We don't like our "paper-changing" digs--no feather duster to hide under!
Speaking of the older killdeer quartet, just look at how they continue to grow!
As if seven wood ducklings and eight killdeer, all high-stress birds, weren’t enough, five nestling chimney swifts—very high maintenance birds—also came in. Thus far they’re doing well.
And this nestling woodpecker, probably a red belly—too soon to be sure—came in when one of the vet techs at Smalley’s said her father found him on the ground and couldn’t locate the nest.
Adding to the general chaos of the week, concerned residents of a neighborhood who love their local red tails brought an adult male to LWR with what they thought was a broken leg, as he was unable to stand. On intake, a quick exam showed no breaks but a massively swollen and bloodied foot. The bird was starvation thin and lethargic. I haven’t had to treat bumblefoot, an infected wound on a bird’s foot, in almost a decade, so I called Steve Hicks to confirm my memory was correct on protocol. He suggested taking him in for x-rays just to confirm there were no pellets present in the leg or foot.
By the time I took him out of the box at Smalley’s, his upper thigh, which seemed fine on intake, was oozing, so we suspected an abscess that my intake exam may have ruptured. The previously unnoticeable wound now looked consistent with an abscess, and the x-rays showed no pellets, no breaks.
By the time I took him out of the box at Smalley’s, his upper thigh, which seemed fine on intake, was oozing, so we suspected an abscess that my intake exam may have ruptured. The previously unnoticeable wound now looked consistent with an abscess, and the x-rays showed no pellets, no breaks.
By the next morning, however, while the foot had gone down noticeably, he’d broken with maggots all in and around the thigh wound, and none of my usual cleaning procedures were working. I could still see the damn things moving under his skin. So I called Smalley’s and vet Peggy Hobby suggested a treatment I’d never tried. I ran to Smalley’s to pick up the meds I needed, and by the time I got back, the red tail’s leg was black—and now two puncture wounds were clearly visible.
*sigh* I called Smalley’s back to ask Peggy what we needed to do for a snake-bitten bird. The treatment was exactly what we’d already discussed the previous day, when we were convinced he’d tangled with a squirrel and had an abscess. So that’s where we stand today: his foot “deflates” a little more each day; his thigh is black but not hard, and we’re hoping the flesh that rots away from the snake venom will be replaced with new flesh. It’s uncertain at this point, but he is looking and acting better than on intake.
And in case you’re curious, LWR is now at 198 intakes for the year and it’s just midyear. Close to forty of those birds are still “guests” here. And yes, I’m exhausted…
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