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If I thought 2018 was bad…

…hold my coffee!

The year 2019 started out with even more sadness. Not from the wildlife perspective, but rather the human side of my life. In four short months, I lost five very dear friends, and my beloved mother (who promised she would make it to her 100th birthday, but no bets after that….bless her heart, she did!)

Amongst my lost friends, is Kathy Morawecki…Kathy had been a director for Iggy’s Wildlife Rehab for 15 years. She was my dear friend, neighbour, and angry critter holder when I called on her. I miss her so much.

And the entire wildlife community mourns the passing of Kay McKeever, the founder of the Owl Foundation. Long before internet, emails and instant messaging, Kay was always there for my late night calls regarding injured, orphaned, starving and kidnapped owls. She insisted that any time of day or night, she was willing to assist with her knowledge. Her owl research is known around the world.

But life goes on, just not as much spring in my step these days, it seems.

Speaking of spring, the calls are already coming in. Baby snowshoe hares, baby squirrels, ground nesting birds… all easy prey for cats and dogs. And by the look at the bellies on my local does, fawns will be here in the next few days…

Sigh…well, better catch you all up on the winter and the critters I had in care.

Stay tuned for that post…phones ringing…Please, not a wildlife call…please!

Dam rewarding (part 2)

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Yes, healing was slow. And even still when I catch a glimpse of Dewy doing a cruise-by in the pond, I can see a rough patch over his spine where his hide was ripped by his aggressors teeth. But wait, I am assuming that the other beaver attacked him. Knowing Dewy, it may have been the other way around. It seems that a week or so after the altercation, the two adult beavers left the pond, leaving their kit behind. There is a possibility that the wolves or bears killed the adults, but there were no circling vultures or eagles. And we did see that our nearby lake had fresh beaver chewings…so we are assuming they moved on.

I wasn’t too eager to release Dewy as the wolves were visiting pretty regularly. But once again, he took matters into his own hands, and dug his way out of the enclosure. He would spend the night on the pond, and go back to the enclosure during the day. This was actually an ideal soft release. And he would wheeze and flirt with the wild kit too. Also good.

This summer saw some of the hottest driest days in years. Our pond is slowly draining down. The wild kit has left, it seems, but every few days I see Dewy out in the deepest section of the pond. He materializes from somewhere, and disappears…

I don’t see that he is using the newest house, and don’t see any obvious mudding or disturbance in the water. So as near as I can figure, he has made himself a den in the oldest house on the pond, which is basically just a pile of old sticks and logs now covered in sedges.

When I see him, I toss him an apple or treat, and he takes it, but really has no interest in renewing our friendship…and that’s a good thing.

I hope his instincts remain strong and he can survive the winter in this diminishing pond, or survive the trek through wolf territory to the lake below.

Dam it, Dewy, you were a challenge, but what a little survivor you are! Bon Chewing!

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dewy on the loose...
just beavering around the pond…

Thanks again for all the help, Ontario Stewardship Youth Rangers!

This year was another great year for getting help around the premises. I was so lucky to have the Kenora crew for two separate days and two crews from Sioux Lookout for two days. And they did so much work!

The pen the foxes were in had been tunneled, dug out, and their potty corner needed to be removed and new soil put in for the next residents to come in. This meant lots and lots of sand, and since its not in an ATV accessible spot, it meant carrying buckets of sand down to the pen. These wonderful crews toted and hauled until the pen was completely refreshed. Then they did the same to the eagle pens too. This is work I can no longer physically do, but needs to be done for the health of the residents.

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And they built, and disassembled, hauled loads to the dump for me, painted and so much more!

And they were such pleasant and cheerful young adults, it was fun and a pleasure for me to have them.

From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

 

Fox on the run…

In early April, I received a call from a contractor working on an island on Lake of the Woods. It seems that while working on their construction site, they had killed a vixen. Further excavation dug out her den with five tiny fox kits. They bundled them up and gave me a call to see if I could take them in. How could I refuse?

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They were just opening their eyes, most likely prematurely due to the stress and exposure to bright light. I believe they were only between 8-10 days old. Stressed and scared, they cowered together,  making sad little rah-rah-rah calls for mom.  All I could do to comfort them was make them a cozy den, with hot water bottles and fix them a special formula made just for little wild critters like these.

Finding a suitable nipple that they would accept was a challenge. I had to alternate between preemie nipples, squirrel feeding nipples, and syringes. Each one wanted something different. And one of the little ones had issues. Her face was scrunched up into a grimace and she had trouble feeding. As she was only 150 grams, compared to the other kits who ranged from 250 to 300 grams, I did not expect her to survive. And she cried constantly for mom. In the morning, I would often find her curled up by herself, avoiding her siblings. I believe that this would be the kit that the vixen would have carried out of the den and deserted in the woods to die.

The days passed and it wasn’t long before the kits were chewing and licking the feeding apparatus rather than sucking. This to me indicated they were on the way to being weaned. Three of the kits, the larger ones, took immediately to lapping formula from a dish (wearing a lot of it in the beginning) and two still wanted to be bottle fed. But slowly, even the squishy faced kit was lapping away.

As their eyes adapted to light and they became more visually aware of their surroundings, I would take them outside on warm days to get used to the sounds and sights around the pond.

They were amazing to watch as they played and fought and pounced. I spent many hours watching from a distance. I was happy that they shied away from me for the most part, showing enthusiasm for human company only when I had their feed with me. They had voracious appetites, consuming soaked kitten chow, puppy chow, canned kitten food, partially cooked chicken, turkey, grouse, mice, and bugs…how they loved to crunch on june beetles and pine beetles!

As they grew, I moved them to a large run down by the edge of the beaver pond. They loved their newfound home, and could dig to their hearts content in the soft mud, climb the walls, pounce on any moving thing that wandered into their domain. The larger space had its drawbacks, though, as when it came to crating them to take them for their vaccines, I had my hands full. Did you know that foxes can run upside down along the ceiling of a run? Yep! and they can leap short people in a single bound, too! First set of vaccines was bad enough, but by their second set, at 14 weeks of age, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to convince them to crate up. But on a happy note, I knew they were wild and did not think humans were their friend!

Bruce and I had checked out a few places suitable for release, with lots of available wild food for them, and after changing our minds a few time, picked what I think was most perfect. No people, campers, hikers, cutters, and most importantly, not being actively trapped for furbearers. On a down side, we were covered in ticks after the release, so they will have a lot of grooming to do! I left chicken eggs stashed under logs, in the moss, and tossed in downfall, and scattered kibble far and wide to make sure they didn’t have to go cold turkey without a meal that day.

I was determined to get good release video that day. Had the GoPro strapped to my head, and my Canon set to movies. Opened a crate, turned to open a second crate, and the first two kits streaked out and were gone into the brush, turned back, second crate was empty! Already gone and joined up with the first two! Last crate I opened more slowly, and got a few seconds of video, but that was it! They were gone!

As we packed up the crates, I could hear them slowly making their ways back to each other with their rah-rah-rah contact calls. As we made our way back to the truck, it sounded like they were reunited, off on a distant hill.

Good hunting, sweet kits!

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An so it begins … again…this spring…

Several times this month, I have sat down to update my blog, but several times my good intentions were interrupted by a phone call about a critter in true or perceived crisis, a family need, or the begging cries of critters already in care.

But today, it is pouring rain, windy and my critters have bunkered down, sensing, I believe, the bad weather. They seem less needy and more willing to sleep and I can’t say I blame them.

In my last blog, I had received in four tiny red squirrels. Happy to say, after they were weaned and put into their hacking box, two were ready to become squirrels and have apparently joined the multitude of squirrels already hanging out here. Two, sadly, had issues and could not survive. One of these had its feet burned prior to my receiving them on a heating pad and had lost toes, a necessary feature for a climber. I tend to avoid heating pads and stick with hot water bottles and Magic bags for supplementary heat. Burns are too common with heating pads.

So let’s see where we are now.

Since then, two very recently hatched goslings were brought to me. Unfortunately, it was a situation where if given time and privacy, the adults would have eventually returned to them. But the wee ones also may have been spotted by a predator, or ran out onto the busy nearby highway too. I wish that the parents were given the opportunity. But as it is, two more goslings will be raised up on our beaver pond this year. The geese that previously nested this year lost their eggs to a fox, re-nested, and then were pillaged by a larger race of Canada geese, eggs broken and nest destroyed. This larger pair, by their behaviour and familiarity with me, are obviously some I have raised in the past, returning to their pond. They didn’t stick around to nest though, just drove the others off, and only come once or twice a day to check for intruders to their pond. They eye the goslings up suspiciously each time. For the goslings protection until they are feathered and larger I will keep them in a fenced in space with their ‘dummy mummy’. They are brought inside each night for safety and warmth.

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Then, a call about an owlet. A lady saw an owlet on the ground, and was keeping her distance, but taking photos. Her dog, seeing the hissing, clacking, fuzz ball must have thought he needed to protect her and attacked it, severely injuring the wee thing. When they brought it to me, and I saw the angle of the tiny wing and blood, I wasn’t able to give them a good prognosis. I was mentally preparing myself to call the vet clinic and book an inevitable appointment. While I held, and tried to secure the injury to lessen pain, I heard a pop and the dislocated elbow was back into place. The bite marks on closer inspection did not look as severe, and although a bone was cracked, it would be naturally splinted by the parallel bone. The blood which covered its down and emerging feathers, seemed to be from damaged blood quills and not internal issues. So its bandaged up, and growing strong. Only time will tell if it will have flight but at least it will have a chance. Its growing into a beautiful young great horned owl, with that species temperament to match!

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Later that week, another call from a friend. She asked if I was still taking in injured birds. Her husband and son were out trying to catch an injured kestrel and if they caught it, she would like to bring it to me. I agreed, and the beautiful little falcon was transported to me within the hour. It too had a wing injury, likely from clipping a car antennae or hydroline. Once again, no obvious breaks, but likely a crack near the elbow. Once again, time will tell. It removed its bandages last night, and did a flight around the room on its own accord. But it tired quickly, so I re-bandaged and will give it more time.

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And then, there’s the raccoon. The one species I will normally refuse to take, especially as a blind kit, but the young gentleman who found it, did all the right things to see if mom would return for it. But she didn’t and he was willing to find a ride to get it to me, so I agreed. Whether or not it will be releasable once weaned and field trained will depend on the coon’s temperament. Some that I have raised have remained wild and fearful of humans, others have accepted humans as friends. The latter are not able to be released and do not have a good story ending.

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And then, there’s the Transfer Station eagle. A city employee and friend called regarding an injured young eagle that hung out at the City garbage transfer station. Unfortunately, it still could fly well enough to elude me, and despite climbing over sandpiles, construction materials, windblown garbage and trekking through scary places in the woods I was unable to get close enough to net it. I did go on several occasions and threw food for it to see if it just needed some extra quality food to get it back in the air. But it continued to be attacked by ravens and gulls, until it could no longer fly. This time, it was the City employees that did the rescue, and called to tell me it was in their custody. The young bird is in very thin shape and has a strange wing injury, and likely some nerve damage. My guess would be electrocution, but I will have to take a longer closer look at the wing, once the bird has the strength to tolerate the handling stress.

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So, folks, this is what is happening right now.

The rain will bring down bird nests, and will cause other issues too. Last year, the calls during rainstorms were topics like…I thought the fawn would be cold so I threw a blanket over it, and now the doe won’t let me near to take the blanket off so can you come help…or Can you move this fawn away? I want to let the dogs out…Or…we want to have a barbeque and there is a robin nesting in it. Can you come take the babies?

The Geese are Gone

I borrowing Bruce’s blog again! This pillaging was so interesting (even though it saddened me) to watch.

wildlifeperspectives

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The aggressive gander beats off the resident gander. Aggressor goose on the nest.

For several years a pair of geese, not always the same ones, have nested on our pond in front of the house and raised young. The last few years the number of young successfully hatched and fledged has been declining. Last year, the number of goslings hatched was small (three?) and the geese and goslings did not hang around long, like they had in years past. But this year was not good at all; actually, it was by far the worst.

Things started off normal enough. The geese came early, like they usually do, with ice still on the pond. As the ice started to melt, a pair took over the pond and chose a patch of cattails to build their nest. After a few days, a cold snap hit and the pond, which had quite a…

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Winters End — wildlifeperspectives

Sharing…

Had to share Bruce’s post. He took such beautiful photos of this bad boy!!

 

It’s the end of April and it looks like winter has let go its icy grip. However, the ice hasn’t melted off all of the local lakes, one can still find a patch of snow here and there and it was below freezing (again) last night. Plus there is not much green to be seen. […]

via Winters End — wildlifeperspectives

 

Squirrel Squatter

On Easter Monday, the weather was perfect for a walk in our field with my dogs. And since the snow had melted enough that I could walk over to one of my tree swallow nest boxes, I figured it was a good time to clean out the mouse nest that seemed to appear each winter.

So I popped open the door and…

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You are not a swallow!

It wasn’t a mouse nest I found within, but a sleepy, cranky flying squirrel.

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Close the door, the light hurts my eyes!

I was glad the dogs were occupied elsewhere and didn’t try to reach the little fellow. I apologized for the interruption, pushed back his bedding into the box, and tried to close the door.

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Oops, watch my tail!

I was careful not to catch any of his body parts in the door as I closed it, but as I tucked his tail in, he managed a quick nip of my finger…little rascal.

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All tucked in and ready to go back to sleep until nightfall.

Northern flying squirrels are very common around here but because they are active at night, many people go their entire lives without seeing one, or at least seeing one close up. I have had people call me to tell me somebody must have lost their chinchilla as they saw one on their bird feeder last night. And there is some similarity with the large eyes and silky fur.

Flying squirrels are one of my favorite little boreal mammals.