7:20 a.m.: Not a good start to the day today. The little guy I took in last night didn’t make it through the night. I had checked in on him again just before I went to bed last night and he seemed fine, so I’m not sure what happened. He had some scratch marks on his stomach and one on his back, so maybe he developed an infection. Or maybe he just wasn’t quite strong enough to make it.
If I seem a little cold in reporting this sad news, unfortunately it’s a defense mechanism you need to develop if you’re going to get involved in wildlife rehabilitation. I think the time I’ve spent at the center itself has helped in that way. So many of the tiny birds die, and other animals do too of course, that the only thing you can do is focus on the ones that you can help. I remind myself that the ones that don’t t make it wouldn’t have survived in the wild either and we at least gave them their best shot, and hopefully a little comfort before they go. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s not enough. It’s definitely harder when it happens with one you’ve brought into your own home but, again, I have to devote my energies to the five that are still thriving and do my best to keep them that way. (Don’t think that means I haven’t shed a few tears this morning, though.)
If you’re wondering why I keep referring to each animal as “a female” or “one of the guys,” rather than giving them names to identify them, this is one of the reasons why—I’m sure it would be that much more difficult if I had to say, “Charlie passed away last night.” But the more important reason is that it’s very important that we always remember that our goal is to successfully transition the animals back into the wild. So we do everything possible to ensure that they don’t bond with us by making sure we don’t treat them as pets in any way. So no names, no cuddling (in fact, no handling at all except when necessary, e.g. for feeding), absolutely NO talking to them, and no “Awww, isn’t he cute?” comments.