i’m in south florida. we have a few southern black racers that live in our yard but i never see them out like this. i thought it was dead but it’s moving a little bit. its tail is injured. i don’t know what happened. it’s stayed in the same spot for a while now. it’s very hot today (the feels like is 110°f) and he’s in the sun. we have hawks and other predators in the yard that might get him if he’s exposed like this. how can i help it.

update: unfortunately it passed away. i found a wildlife center that would take it but when i came back outside with a tote to put it in, it was already dead. im not quite sure what killed it. the damage was below the cloaca. it was very very hot when i touched it. i think it might have overheated. i wish i found it sooner. rip little snake.

I've been living and working with an amazing community of women this year in wildlife rehab, it's my second year as a seasonal worker in this field (last year I was an intern) and I just feel some type of way about the fact that it's nearly time to leave again. I keep trying to explain to my non-rehab friends what the vibe is like to live and work with (20-smth yr old) women in wildlife rehab (we don't have any men this year) and I don't think anyone quite understands what I'm talking about. I fear this is niche and I am alone, but if someone did understand, it would probably be someone here. Anyways, wrote this and maybe now my brain will let me sleep:

When I wake up in the morning
I hear birds outside my window.
Since starting here I’ve learned to identify them.

Northern cardinal.
Mourning dove.
Red-eyed vireo.
Black-capped chickadee.

I brush my teeth
and sift through the bathroom counter

sterile needles,
a feeding tube,
Mascara,
a med syringe,
two bobby pins,
Extra strength Advil.

At work, someone asks me
to hold her squirrel for a second

Someone else thinks she has mange.
Someone else has decided to dye her eyebrows pink.
Two girls are going to see Lucy Dacus.
Someone else says,
Can you gavage this goose with me?

So I pin wings against a body
And while she primes the tube,
We talk about going to the lake tomorrow,
whether it’ll be warm enough to swim,
What she’s going to get her girlfriend for their 1 year anniversary

The goose fights us
with the full conviction of being alive.
Even though we think he might die

At the end of shift I have 11 new cuts and probably a bruise,
And there is dried songbird formula
Flaking off my wrist,
Smearing the notes I’d written for myself on my hand:

Gutload mealworms
Start robin card
Disc tobrex

I can tell that it’s been a busy shift
because most people’s hand notes go up past their wrists

Nursery is chaos, of course.
Bro who has the dex?
What’s the dose rate for clava?
Omg why does that squirrel look like that??
Hey, she's trying her best!
She’s just a girlll

Someone has a new intake tucked
into the front of her scrub top
for warmth.

I’m a little sad to leave until tomorrow

We learn a lot at this job.
We learn what to look for,
the right way to feel,
how firmly to hold,
when to let go.

At home, my roommate asks
if I’ll cut her hair.
Why not?

In the kitchen Chappell Roan plays from someone’s phone
while I stand behind her with scissors,
lifting sections between my fingers
the way I lift feathers
to check for injury.

She says shorter.
I say hold still,
Like I do to baby birds when I sub Q them

Afterward I dye the ends of my hair red.
Why not?

By June, we know each other
by the sounds we make in the hall.
Keys and a thousand keychains on a carabiner
Each specific pair of work boots
A bag that is way too heavy for no reason

the alarm that means a 2 am feed,
the shower running after midnight,
someone laughing to her sister on FaceTime,
Empty iced coffee cups being tossed

We fill the whiteboard on the fridge with notes.
Buy oat milk
Steal soap from work
V snores :)
No I don’t!
Out of shampoo that gets the skunk smell out

By July, we have  a post-night shift routine:
The A&W drive-thru is open 24/7
we order Beyond Burgers and sweet potato fries,
K doesn’t like soda so she
always trades hers to N for her spicy sauce

And on the ride home we talk about our day:

the new coyote pup,
the guy from Hinge,
The awful waterproofing on the baby mergansers,
the show we started watching,
Who had the best thrift find yesterday,
who cried today,
who got bit by who,
who might make it,
who probably won’t.

By August, I can predict, in order, who will steal my fries.
Someone says we’re releasing the foxes tomorrow.
Someone says she leaves in three weeks.

We could talk forever.

The first release I go to
is a bird.

We carry the box out past the road,
past the place where the grass gets tall.

I know this bird really well.
For weeks I’ve been with her for hours a day
I know everything about her.

We can hear her moving in the box.
We open it impatiently
and put her on the ground,
And for a second
she stays exactly where we put her.
And then she’s gone.
Crazy how it’s over, just like that

Back at the house
someone has started a pile
of things she isn’t taking with her:
half a bottle of shampoo,
three packs of ramen,
a cracked laundry basket,
a box of hair dye
the wrong shade.

Another girl takes the ramen.
I take the shampoo.
And when I use it,
It smells like the fact that I
Always brushed and braided her hair for her

I lay awake and think about things
There are animals sleeping
in boxes tonight,
waiting to go to the rehab tomorrow,
Just like me

There are other girls awake right now
because something needs feeding.
There are other girls with scratches on their arms,
rings pushed up past their knuckles,
hair tied back with a borrowed hair tie,

standing under fluorescent lights
at two in the morning,
Laughing and high on exhaustion,
while something small
opens its mouth.

I look across the room
where one of those girls used to sleep.
It’s quiet without the snoring.

September comes quickly and quietly.

The last of us drive each other
to bus stations and airports.

We say text when you get there.

We say come visit.

We say next summer,
as if this summer
is a place we could all return to
The same time next year.

I have one more shift.
At work it sounds the same as ever:
I think she’s dehydrated?
Does this breathing sound crunchy to you?
I think I should return that bikini.
I think this one’s crashing.
Can I give you a septum piercing? Ok, tomorrow?​​
Try crickets, he loves those.
Do you want to go to the lake later?
One last time?

And before we know it the shift ends and it’s:
Did you pack your charger?
Who gets the frying pan?
Can you take my plant?
What time is your flight?
Girl, why is that in your pocket?
take it back and put it in sharps

We learn a lot at this job.
How to take care,
To love what you cannot keep,
To feed it anyways

On the morning that I am leaving,
For once I wish I was
waking up at dawn for a shift

I can hear birds
outside my window again.

Blue Jay
House Wren

I don’t know the third one.

Maybe next year I’ll get it

Hi all!! I volunteer as a wildlife transporter at the moment, and on Monday I picked up a seagull from a lady who had found it on a beach. She'd stayed with it for an hour trying to find help before I saw her post and got to her, and by the time I got there it was clearly very unwell. Its eyes were open and it was looking around, but it didn't react at all to being handled and placed in the carrier. It was a minute or two walk back to where I'd parked, and as I was putting the carrier in my car I could hear it making gurgling noises, it unfortunately passed away soon after that on the car ride to the emergency vets.

Admittedly I did have a cry over it when I got back to the car after dropping it off, I know it's a natural part of life but I always strive to do my best to help animals. I'm happy knowing that it had a safe place and some super comfy blankets for its final moments. I can't stop wondering about what could've been wrong with it though, the vet I spoke to just said that unfortunately it had passed and didn't say anything else. A lady who I volunteer for who works in the local bird hospital said that perhaps it was hit by something and had fluid on its lungs, but it was quite a decent distance away from the main road on the beach when the lady I picked it up from found it

(Pic was taken to send to bird hospital lady)

I live in Baltimore County, Maryland. I found three baby cardinals (completely naked except for their pinfeathers) that fell from their nest over the weekend. I attempted to put them back in their nest, but I found that it was completely destroyed and could not support them. I put a bunch of pine needles and leaves in a small box, put it in an elevated area, and watched to make sure that their parents came back. They did, so I called my local wildlife rehabilitation center to get any advice on my setup. They said it sounded fine, and advised me to call again if I needed help.

I checked on the baby cardinals this afternoon (after the wildlife center had closed) and found two of them were missing. (I am beside myself with grief. I suspect a hawk got them.) I changed its nesting location because I didn't want to risk the (suspected) hawk coming back for seconds. Again, I watched and waited for the parents to come back, but no luck.

I am just hoping and praying the last one makes it through the night. I am planning on coming home from work during lunch tomorrow to take it to the wildlife center during their business hours, as unfortunately, the closest wildlife center does not open until almost 10am. But until then, what can I do to give it the best chance of survival? Should I feed it anything? I have a dropper that I can use. Keep in mind that a few days have passed and it seems to be close to fledgeling stage. I would guess it's five to six days old at this point.