The Wild Life

Tomorrow is Thursday. Many of you already knew that. Gradually, since December, I've come to dread Thursdays, because at 4:00 pm until 9:00 I become a dispatcher for Tamarack Wildlife Rehabilitation and Education Center. I mentioned it before in a January Gospel of Rand McNally posting entitled "Texas Toast." The (volunteer) gig is: every hour check messages on Tamarack's voicemail, log them on a call log sheet, and deal with whatever situations arise. Some are administrative calls - organizations wanting a tour of the center or a demonstration at their event. Some are people checking up on animals they rescued or called in first responders for. Most, however, are people with wildlife issues that need resolution.

The outgoing message on the voicemail is very specific. If callers actually listened to it, a lot of my job would be done already. Tamarack takes birds of prey, adult seed-eating songbirds, game birds, opossums and reptiles. The baby bird "rescuers," raccoon trappers, baby bunny finders and bat-in-the-basement hosts would know before I call them to recommend alternatives that Tamarack is not the destination of their problem critter.

I'm hoping the baby bird "rescue" epidemic has subsided for this year. I needed a recording of myself saying, over and over again, "put the baby bird back in the nest. Don't feed it, the parents are much better at taking care of their babies than humans are. The parents won't abandon their babies." And then, when they still want a "rescue" operation, I tell them to call Skye's Spirit near Grove City - they accept baby birds. Then. after I disconnect, I say "Maybe they can convince you."

A lot of baby bunny calls are much the same. I'm grateful for Skye's Spirit as a place to either take in what Tamarack doesn't or be another voice of reason to talk to the unreasonable.

Raccoons are "rabies vector" species. Tamarack is not allowed to handle them, the First Responders are warned away from them, and dispatchers are told to counsel people to leave them the hell alone - don't come near them, don't feed them, call the Game Commission! A lot of people don't want to hear what we tell them. It's tha same old thing: if you're not going to listen to my answer, DON"T ASK THE QUESTION!

The best was a woman in Edinboro with an injured hawk. I called the admitting medic who lives near Edinboro, he picked up the hawk and it is doing well at the center. The worst was last week. A woman in Erie called at 8:25. She had an injured crow. I called every first responder in Erie and all I got was a series of voicemail messages unreturned, a couple of "no" answers, and a woman who would pick it up it in the morning. The crow died overnight.

One person I asked and got a "no" from said she used to be a dispatcher, but quit because it was too frustrating. I understand!