It was the middle of July when Humboldt Wildlife Care Center admitted a very young Ringtail (Bassariscus astutus) who’d fallen through a chimney into someone’s house in Hoopa. You may have read about her needs in care when her story was picked up by local news source, Redheaded Blackbelt.



A Ringtail (other common names include Ring-tailed cat, MIner’s cat and even Civet cat) is not a cat, although they do have many cat-like qualities, from appearance to behaviors. In fact, Ringtails are members of the family Procyonidae, a group that includes coatimundis, kinkajous and the much more familiar Raccoon. Yet the comparisons to other animals are even built into their scientific name – the latin binomial Bassariscus astutus, literally means, sly little fox!
When this sly little raccoon cousin was admitted, her eyes were open and her teeth were just starting to come in. She was still quite young – maybe 8 weeks old. We immediately started her on a milk replacer. At only 140 grams, she would need at least two weeks, maybe three, before she could be weaned to an all solid food diet.




By the end of July, the youngster was on a diet of egg, fruit, vegetables, insects, rodents and birds. In the middle of a hectic baby season most of our mammal housing was already in use by the usual suspects (raccoons, skunks, opossums), besides her needs for outdoor housing were far more arboreal than any of the mammals we routinely treat. So we built a small but usable housing, dubbed Ringtail Tower. WIth a lot of vertical space, she was able to develop her climbing skills while chasing crickets as she learned to hunt.

After several more weeks, and a lot of crickets, rats, mice, eggs, blueberries and more, she was getting to be a good size, with good skills, for us to start planning her release.
Although she was born in Hoopa, she’d spent a large portion of her infancy and her first several weeks of being a juvenile in care in our facility on the edge of Humboldt Bay. The record-shattering heat that gripped most of California, including her home valley on the Trinity River, never touched us here in Humboldt. Although she was ready to be released, we decided to wait for the heatwave to break before taking her home.
At last, the second weekend of September, the temperature in Hoopa was down to reasonable 90 degrees with even cooler temperatures forecast for the coming week. We took the opportunity to release her during this window. With several days of normal heat, she’d be better acclimated if the thermometer started climbing into the danger zone again.







Caring for this young Redtail was an honor. To be able to provide care for all our patients is an honor. It’s a privilege to be this near to wildness everyday of our lives and we don’t take this privilege lightly. That our work is so rewarding is something for which I believe we are each grateful everyday. But our work is not only a privilege, it’s also necessary. This Ringtail needed us. All of our patients do. This necessity, and the sorrow of this necessity, is also with us daily. And this necessity is what makes our position so precarious. The only thing that can stabilize our future, and ensure that we are here, every day of every year to help wildlife in need, is your support. Please donate. Our patients need us, and we need you. Thank you. click to donate

all photos: Laura Corsiglia/bird ally x.












































Weight checks on raccoons who are nearing release can be challenging! Here HWCC rehabilitator Lucinda Adamson holds a young raccoon gently but firmly while intern Tabytha Sheeley (facing away) assists with identification.
Once weaned, all of our orphaned raccoons are moved to a 14 day weight check. The reduction in handling does them a world of good!
Raccoons who are ready to go wait for their ride to the release site.
At the release site: tentative faces peer out. Caution in the face of novelty is the hallmark of being wild!
And curiosity eventually overpowers! There’s a whole wide world to explore and raccoons, intelligent, investigative and irrepressible, soon leave the familiar crates for the limitless cosmos.
One by one, the five raccoons emerge from their transport carriers, the last box that will ever contain them!
Some elements of the natural world – rock, river, insect, leaf – are familiar to the youngsters. Our raccoon housing is built to introduce wild orphans to many of the the resources they’ll use once they’re independent and free.

In this group of raccoons, two are siblings, but all five have been housed together since they were first weaned. Raccoons form bonds – bonds of family, bonds of friendship – just like many of us.

Soon, they all start to look across the river to the ever widening world.
They cross the river together.


HWCC/bax volunteer Skylr Lopez (right) and intern Tabytha Sheeley watch the young raccoons move farther and farther away. Like sending our kids off to college, releasing our patients after four months of providing their care is a joy that is tinged with sadness.
Five raccoons facing their future, not looking back.
An exam of each skunk was made. One of them, the male of the three, was cold, lethargic and dehydrated, the two sisters were in much better shape. Each was given warmed subcutaneaous fluids. The male, initially found immobile in the grass, had to be kept in an incubator for some time, but soon recovered and rejoined his siblings.
Tail up, the weaker of the three begins to signal his recovery as he signals his alarm at waking up in an incubator.
Oh yes, these teeth are ready from something to chew on!
The two healthier sisters inside their initial housing to observe their stability, learn more about their state of health and make sure that they are eating. The brother soon joined them.
At this age, skunks don’t have much ability to spray. Still the siblings stamp out warnings and lift their tails in mock battle. Play leads to adulthood!

