We’ve fallen behind in reporting on our hectic Summer season, due in part to the global coronavirus pandemic, and also to our sudden huge increase in patients over previous Summers. So let us take a breath, slip away from the clinic and our never-ending tasks and catch you up with some of our cases and releases from over the hectic baby season. Here’s a little tune to accompany you.
https://youtu.be/UdYGRnM8JN4
Three of the six young Gray Foxes (Urocyon cinereoargenteus) we provided care for at Humboldt Wildlfie Care Center, Summer 2020.A young fox surveys their freedom after release.Orphaned Gray Fox at release performs the title song from the smash hit Broadway musical, Into the Woods. No Zoom app required.Two nestling Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias), blown from their tree during a late Spring wind storm, get the hang of eating human caregiver delivered fish.In the early days of the Herons’ care we offered their fish on long hemostats. Quickly they began picking up their fish all by themselves. Soon after that they were hunting live fish in a pool.Launching into flight at the release site, just south of the Hoopa Reservation, where the two Herons came from. Covid 19 restrictions kept us from taking them all the way home, so a few miles from home would have to suffice.Great Blue Heron puts a lot of distance between themself and the humans who tried their best to provide good care. We did our jobs. But the stench of humanity still lingers…Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia) in care: This Tern was found struggling in the surf. Without any injuries and in good body condition, we presumed the problem was an accidental dunking. After a few days of fish and rest, this bird who barks like a cat was raring to go!Released back to Humboldt Bay, where a large colony of Caspian Terns raise their young every year, this beautiful bird was one good tern…As the saying goes, one good Tern photo deserves another. Each year mother Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) make their nests near Humboldt Bay and other bodies of water and every year when they lead their precocial babies to that water they have to cross roads. Mayhem ensues. Of the 24 orphaned Mallards we treated this year, 16 of them were found on the highway with their dead mother. Caring for Mallard babies until they can be released is a privilege, but returning them to the wild that is a lustrous green carpet of duckeed is one of life’s marvels. The Arcata Marsh, home to many ducks and aquatic birds, is rich with nutritious and natural duck food.Nature is perfect.A juvenile Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis), very thin and full of lice was admitted this Summer after she turned up on a farm in Arcata (very out of place). Here she is being checked out after 27 days in care. A release exam is given to all our patients before we return them to their wild freedom. Dylan says that ‘to live outside the law you must be honest’ – well, maybe so, but you also must be as fit as a fiddle.In our Pelican Aviary, this 3 months old female is flying well again!After being found in a field with dairy cows in the Arcata Bottoms, our former patient is ready for a world of flight, salt water, diving and the company of her kind.
There is no getting around that 2020 has been a very difficult year, for our clinic, for our staff, for our community, for our nation, for the world. Yet, in these really difficult days, we’ve treated, as of this writing, September 10, 1,227 patients. Right now we’ve treated 300 more patients, year to date, in our small hospital on Humboldt Bay than any year in our 41 year history.
In March, as the pandemic was first hitting, it seemed entirely possible that our mission would be crushed under the weight of so much turmoil and uncertainty. It seemed possible that we wouldn’t make it through the Summer. But in fact, we’ve not only kept our doors open, we’ve managed to handle thousands of phone calls that often are better than the hands-on care we provide since these consultations and house calls prevent injuries and keep wild families together. We’ve learned as we went along how to do our work with a skeleton crew and with a shoestring budget. We’ve learned how to communicate effectively, how to keep our cool, how to appreciate the beauty and humor of life without seeing each other’s smiles or laughter. And none of this would have been possible without your support.
By the end of this month we will have treated more patients at HWCC than any previous year and we’ll still have three months to go. We have no idea how disastrous the rest of the year might be, or if we’ll ever return to what used to be normal. But as we’ve all been learning, we’ll keep on keeping on. Our wild neighbors will continue to have a place where they can be treated, cared for, and when possible, released back to their wild freedom. This is our commitment and promise and with your continued support we’ll keep it.
