I arrived for my rehabilitation externship at the Wildlife Center of Virginia looking forward to learning how to handle large animals. I pictured myself bandaging Barred Owls and exercising Red-tailed Hawks with confidence, and while I greatly enjoyed my time working with these animals, what struck me most during my externship was the care that goes into the very smallest of patients.
The winner of the “smallest patient that I saw at the Wildlife Center” category goes to a tiny mouse that had been stuck in a glue trap. Upon the mouse’s intake, I walked over to the table and peered into the carrier. At first, I saw nothing but a towel. Then, a spark of motion as a speck of fur raced across the towel, searching for a chance to escape. Based on the mouse’s liveliness, its mounting stress level, and its clean bill of health after being removed from the trap, the vet team decided to release it immediately. A group of us carried the mouse into the woods next to a stream and opened up its box; it ran out and then froze for a long time before meandering under a bush.
In the fifteen minutes that I knew this mouse, I became surprisingly invested in its story, and while it was smaller than one raptor’s talon, it still received a level of care befitting of any living being.
This was one of many cases I saw relating to glue traps, especially for small mammals, but also for animals that I was not expecting, such as snakes. I never realized how widespread the use of glue traps was, but I was also grateful for how willing people were to bring in animals that they had found on these traps.
Shortly later, our next tiny patient came in and was placed in the “new arrivals” incubator. It was a baby chipmunk (one of my favorite animals!) requiring hand-feeding! The next day, I was trained to syringe feed him and then charged with feeding him four times per day, giving a few milliliters of formula at each feeding. His eyes were closed when he arrived, but as the day progressed, I got to watch his eyes slowly open for the very first time in his life, and he grew livelier with each passing hour. In the coming days, as he grew, his number of feedings per day decreased, and he moved out of the incubator into a larger enclosure.
As far as feathered patients go, one of my most unexpectedly memorable experiences was watching a group of nestling robins grow up. Two of the robins arrived around the same time that I arrived at the Center, and then two more robins were added to the group (which I did not know until I went to feed them and was surprised to find that they had multiplied!). They needed to be hand-fed every thirty minutes when they first arrived, and they became louder and perkier with each passing day until their feathers were fully developed, and they would perch in a row on their branch when they wanted to be fed.
The robins were eventually moved outside to a bigger enclosure, where they immediately flew around, exploring every corner and branch. They still hand-fed every hour, and when they heard me coming, they would line up and gape at me. However, as they continued to grow, they lost interest in being hand-fed and learned to eat for themselves. By the end of my four weeks at the Center, they wanted nothing to do with me and ate every speck of food on their own. While this caused me some mixed emotions, as I would miss acting as their mom, I was also thrilled that they were finding their way to being mature robins ready for release.
I never thought I would be writing that feeding robins was one of my favorite activities, as I see robins often in everyday life, but getting to see how each robin grew healthier through individualized care was an incredibly valuable experience. There were many other small animals that I interacted with every day, mostly baby squirrels, opossums, and songbirds in the infant care unit. I will miss each beautiful raptor, and yes, even the goose I helped take care of, but I will especially miss every marvelously tiny, unique personality that stole my heart.
~Jessie Burdetter
Wildlife Rehabilitation Extern
August 2024
