April Showers Bring May Volunteers & Interns!

They came from the east. They came from the west. They met in McCall, Idaho, at Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary. Please welcome our two spring/summer interns, Shannon Blount and AnaVictoria Garcia Medina. Both are studying to become Wildlife Veterinarians with goals of working internationally and helping underserved communities. Both are highly motivated and inspirational, working tirelessly to prepare our facility for the arrival of orphaned and injured animals and caring for those already here. Additionally, they are learning to train two educational raptors, Merlin and Qa’ya (Great Horned Owl and Red-Tailed Hawk).

 

Shannon has worked with not-for-profits before. She has experience working with some wildlife and studied as a young adult at The Ohio State University. She has since come full circle, continuing her studies at Southeast Missouri State University. Shannon and her husband built a straw bale home, off-grid, for themselves and their two sons. No small feat! She has brought those incredible skills to Snowdon and has single-handedly repaired and rebuilt animal enclosures with their safety and welfare in mind.

 

AnaVictoria, also known as AV, has been a big animal lover since she was little. Currently, she is studying at the University of San Francisco. She is passionate about conservation and environmental justice. She has fostered a lot of animals. AV has taken on the challenge of organizing and redesigning the Snowdon clinic. It is a tiny space, and without knocking down any walls, she strives to make it feel roomier than it actually is.

 

Baby season is slightly delayed, perhaps due to the long winter, but soon these projects of theirs will pay off dearly for the little ones now starting to arrive. Thank you, Shannon and AV. We are excited to have you on board. May you have a wonderful time here at Snowdon. May you learn something new each day. May you teach me something new every day too.

 

Before Shannon and AV arrived, Snowdon was fortunate to have eighteen men and women from U.S. Courts, District of Idaho, volunteer to prepare our site for baby season and the arrival of our interns. Shannon and AV will never know what they missed. This working party of volunteers cleaned things no one in their right mind should ever have to touch! It was, at times, disgusting! They did it without balking or batting an eyelash. They removed organic matter and debris (a polite way to say, feces or poop), repaired entryways, moved fencing and fence lines, fixed screens, constructed platforms, filled holes, raked gravel, removed old, drenched hay, dragged tree branches, and passed crates and bins down from the loft in the barn, only to return some of those same items back up to the loft space once cleaned. They scrubbed, hosed, lifted, and hauled. They helped clean the intern cabin and more!

 

The day before their arrival, the sensation was a feeling of being overwhelmed. We would not be ready to take in animals without their assistance. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your energy, enthusiasm, perseverance, work ethic and efforts, and mind-blowing capabilities to achieve many of our goals in a single day! Actually, it wasn’t a single day. It was four incredible hours! My only regret was not getting to say goodbye to each of you and not capturing a group photo. Please allow me to thank you: Benjamin Biddulph, Carrie Christopher, Carrie Wade, Colton Esplin, Crystal Laleman, Emma Wilkins, Erica Langton, Gavin Zickefoose, Hailey Baker, Jason Hofstetter, Jen Duboise, Jeremy Hansen, John Godwin, Jonathan Skinner, Kim Neal, Kyle Peterson, Nate Hudson, and Selvi Mustafic.  Jessie Thompson-Kelley, thank you for organizing the event. Further thanks to our dedicated Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary team, board members, and supporters.

The things we do for love

The Things We Do For Love

 

The journey to Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary to become the new Wildlife Rehabilitator Manager was exciting, to say the least. Picture this… 10 months ago, leaving Vermont to work as a Registered Veterinary Technician at Big Bear Alpine Zoo and VCA Lakeside Animal Hospital in Big Bear Lake, California. Now, cut to… 3 weeks ago when roads up-and-down the mountain to Big Bear were closed due to the insane amount of snow being dumped… tons of snow… and more snow… and more. So much snow it was nearly impossible to throw it out of the way. Now picture 38 steep steps to climb to the front door. 38 steep steps to keep cleared of snow in order to pack the car to move to McCall, Idaho. Then, there were decks to clear to avoid collapse. The driveway. The unplowed roads. What does one do? They shovel… and shovel more… and more. Not only must one shovel out their home, but the job where they care for injured wildlife needs to be shoveled too… repeatedly… exhaustingly… painstakingly, because lives literally depended upon it… wild lives. Let us not forget that on top of shoveling, one had to pack, clean, and steam clean rugs because someone really wanted their security deposit back. The question over those two weeks of clearing snow and ice was… Will the landlords be able to make it for the walk-through, and will someone be able to leave on their moving day because, again, roads were closed, and only residents with proof of residency were allowed up and down the hill? Thankfully, when the day arrived to head out of town, roads were finally open to everyone.

 

The car is packed to the roof in every available space. The driver seat is erect, elbows snug to the body, and legs not any better. The seat position could not be moved back any further. Two large dogs shared breathing room only. And, literally, up to the very last moment when a decision had to be made, the question looming was… take scenic Highway 93 or go through Death Valley National Park? If ever there was a time to go, now is it. Annnnnnd… Death Valley it is! Made it there in time to appreciate the sunset at Zabriskie Point. Then, pitched the tent in the dark for the night. The dirt was hard as pavement, meaning stakes were nearly impossible to pound into the ground. Piling rocks was the go-to source that helped secure the tent in place. Winds packed a punch all night long, but we slept almost peacefully.

 

In the morning, the car was loaded once more. We proceeded to several scenic stops throughout the park, stretched our legs, admired the views, and marked a little territory here and there (two dogs, remember?). Do not fear. They did not desecrate anyplace where they were not allowed to go… and, as they say, have poop bags, will travel. They do say that… right? Anyway, here is the list of places we admired inside the park: Badwater Basin (282 feet below sea level), The Devil’s Golf Course, Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, Artists Drive and Artists Palette. In a word, AMAZING!

 

After completing Death Valley, the next stop was Rhyolite Ghost Town to take in the Ruins, Tom Kelley’s Bottle House, Goldwell Open Air Museum, and a Cemetery. That night we chose to stay in a motel somewhere in Wells, Nevada. It was dark and snowing, and the mood to search for a place to camp was lost to the need for sleep.  From there, the next day, Snowdon or Bust! It is a MUST to photograph the Extraterrestrial Highway Sign along the way. It is unearthly.

Upon crossing over the bridge above Snake River in Twin Falls, Idaho one must stop to admire the view and recall Evel Knievel’s attempt to jump across the river on a rocket-propelled motorcycle, albeit not at that specific stopping point. He did not make it, but he lived to talk about it.

 

Lastly, McCall, Idaho… Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary. Upon arrival, the greeting was friendly and warm while demonstrating how life off-grid would work. Took the next day off to unpack and settle in and reflect on how much I love working with wildlife. The day after that, the winter intern, Bob, introduced the animals before heading to the roof, where we naturally cleared more snow and ice. Thank you, Jeff, for joining us! Two days later, it was back to shoveling more snow off the rooftop… but, truth be told, Bob was the muscle. Putty arms and zapped energy meant several breaks for this weary one to rest their head upon their shovel handle. Thank you, Bob! You ROCK! It would not have been completed without you.

 

Bob is leaving Snowdon in another week. He will be greatly missed. While the time working together was short, he is incredibly knowledgeable and fascinating to listen to. Wishing him nothing but pure joy and success on the next leg of his journey. He has accepted an exciting job opportunity where he will do incredible things for rivers and the environment. Cheers to you, Bob! We will see you down the road… or, down the river. Safely down the river.

Bird Brain

Bird Brain

by Sierra Pederson, February 2023

Before coming to Snowdon, I had yet to have the pleasure of working with ambassador raptors. Early in my tenure, the Board of Directors tasked me with the seemingly impossible job of retraining Merlin, the great horned owl. Our 14-year-old education bird had grown fond of his enclosure after an extended event hiatus during the sad times. Though Merlin was a challenge to win over (the topic of our first website blog), it only took about a month for us to start touring Valley County on a 30-presentation-long circuit. I continue to work with Merlin almost daily, and he has proven to be a very tolerant and stoic education bird once again.

            There is a steep and challenging learning curve to animal training. The key to working with any animal, or person for that matter, is patience and consistency. I had the pleasure of building on these skills with a local falconer, Isaac Pottenger, while training a non-releasable fledgling red-tailed hawk we received over the summer. This 3-month-old youngster flew into a truck near Council soon after leaving the nest. The altercation left him with two compound fractures in his right wing, which usually results in the need for euthanasia. Instead of immediately putting this bird down, the Board and I agreed to see if he had a curious and food-motivated disposition. Though life in captivity is a challenging transition for most adult wild animals, juveniles can often adapt to this new set of stimuli. Isaac told me the number one way to earn a bird’s trust was exposure, so I moved some pillows and my laptop into the loft of our raptor enclosure. A week after doing all my computer work in my new nook, I could feed this wild fledge by hand.

            Because we can’t tell our feathered friends we are only trying to help, we rely on our body language to communicate and earn their trust. If you are consistently calm during training sessions, they will associate you with the positive parts of their day. Once I started feeding the red-tail by hand, I began introducing him to the glove. Getting a bird to “step up” means you are asking them to perch on your arm, which is often unsteady, and to voluntarily exist within your space. It might seem like a small request, but it is a massive ask for a wild animal. The hawk was understandably hesitant at first. He was getting used to my company in his enclosure and took the time to shred the mice and quail bits I handed him. He no longer displayed stressed behaviors when I entered the enclosure. In fact, he started preening while I typed and would choose to perch as close to me as possible. It took me another week before he decided to hop onto my glove to take the food I was offering. I was shocked. I sat stock-still while he ripped the head off the mouse I had in my hand. I was 100% certain he would hop off the second the food was gone, but he chose to sit there and stare at me with no intention of moving away. I gave him another piece of food every few minutes to encourage this behavior. I eventually ran out of mice and chicken, but he still chose to stay on my glove. I hung out until his 1300 g grew heavy. Then, I turned my wrist and moved him toward one of his perches, gesturing for him to step off. He did what I asked of him but quickly moved closer to me, watching me curiously to see if I happened to have any food left. That was when I knew this hawk would make one heck of an ambassador.

            I sent Isaac a picture of my new buddy on the glove and asked if he could come out to the sanctuary to help me put jesses on him. The following week, we went through Snowdon’s falconry equipment and picked out anklets that would comfortably fit his legs and jesses that would be the proper length for a raptor his size. Thankfully, Isaac had a hood we could borrow that would cover the hawk’s eyes while we handled him. Isaac put the new bling (anklets and jesses) on our hawk while I held him against my chest. Though the red-tail wasn’t entirely sure of what we attached to his legs, he didn’t bother pulling at his jesses or picking at the anklets. For the next few weeks, he and I worked together every day. I always looked forward to training him because of our rapid progress. One week after stepping up, he started jumping down to me from the rafters. Soon he was jumping to the scale to weigh himself and allowing me to touch his feet and chest while on the glove. He won me over in the first week, but I was starting to think he was coming around to me as well.

            When I started working with this fledgling, I wasn’t sure if we would be keeping him. For this reason, I thought of him as a rehabilitation animal and wasn’t ready to give him a name. However, I started brainstorming once Isaac and I put jesses on him. I let Snowdon’s Board of Directors know I wanted to apply for a new education permit. Erin, the wife of Board member Jeff, immediately offered the name Qáya for our new ambassador. Qáya is the name for red-tailed hawk in Nimipuut’imt, The People’s Language (Nez Perce). The Nez Perce Tribe had hosted a feast for the entire town of McCall a few years back, giving the entire fund-raising proceeds to Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary. In addition, Snowdon’s founder built an enclosure over 20 years ago to house a pack of gray wolves that needed sanctuary in collaboration with the Nez Perce Tribe’s work to re-establish native wolves in Idaho. Snowdon wanted to recognize this partnership by naming our newest ambassador Qáya! Our crew fell in love with the name and decided we would give him the nickname Kai for short. Now that he had a name and I was working on his fifteen-page permit, I knew we were keeping him for good.

            We said very little to the public about Kai while we waited for federal approval. It was difficult for me, Macy, Alex, and Allison to keep him on the down low because we have had so much fun working with him. We are all excited to announce his addition to our ambassador team this month! Macy helped me train Kai throughout the fall and early winter. He spent most days in the house with us while we developed education programs, researched best animal care practices, and wrote new content for Snowdon’s website. We loved watching his overly elaborate preening rituals and unique behaviors. Over the summer, he continued to make rapid progress as we challenged him to learn novel behaviors. Soon he was jumping 4 feet up to the glove from the ground, running across the room to his “spot,” and returning to his perch, all with exclusively verbal commands. We were so proud of our favorite little murder bird!

            Anytime people would come out to the sanctuary to volunteer, drop off donations, or transport animals; I made sure they had the opportunity to meet Kai. I was so enamored with this bird that I needed other people to get to know him too. This also helped socialize him while I waited for permission to take him out for education programs. I finally scheduled Kai’s first-ever presentation for mid-February at McCall-Donnelly High School, and I couldn’t wait. I worked with Kai for seven months, hoping to take him to an event someday. I was ecstatic when his permit finally came through! As I expected, Kai performed wonderfully in the science classes at our local high school. He puffed out his feathers, preened, and tilted his head while checking out the students in the room. My heart soared while I answered the kids’ inquisitive and thoughtful questions. It took longer than I thought it would, but I finally got to present with Kai!

            The average red-tailed hawk will live 20+ years in captivity. Because Kai is not even a year old yet, he will give hundreds of presentations for Snowdon in his lifetime. Training this wild little guy into a curious and lovable ambassador was an absolute pleasure. Watching people light up when they see him is even better. I can only hope Kai’s story will inspire the people who meet him to be a little kinder to our wild neighbors. The human population in Valley County is multiplying, which has impacted Snowdon via an equally rapid increase in rehabilitation animal intakes. Unfortunately, more people in a predominantly rural area often leads to more human-wildlife conflict. Increasing our education efforts during this time of growth can mitigate many of these unintentional issues. I genuinely believe the best rehabilitation strategy is preventing animals from needing our intervention. As Snowdon continues to expand as an organization, I look forward to seeing the impact it can have on environmental stewardship in this area. We can all learn something about how to be better members of this beautiful Valley County ecosystem.

 

Kwaali, The Born-Again Squirrel

Kwaali, the Born-Again Squirrel

Sometimes animals just know best. Such was the case with a tree squirrel that had been hit by a car. Jeff and I were volunteering at Snowdon one day when we received a scratchy cell phone call from a guy who had scooped up an injured, unconscious squirrel and wrapped him in a towel. At least that’s what I thought he said. Cell phone coverage at Snowdon can be fleeting at times. Then the caller said he was speedily on his way to the sanctuary as we spoke, so it was lucky that Jeff and I happened to be on site to assess this squirrel. In my mind, a squirrel vs. a car does not usually end well for the squirrel. When Brent drove up, this was the scene: All the vehicle windows were open; there was a large panting black dog in the back seat; and there was a lively squirrel running back and forth across the top of the bench seat. Apparently, the squirrel came back to life during the drive! I couldn’t believe that the squirrel didn’t jump out the open windows or, for that matter, into the dog’s gaping mouth. This was when I began to chuckle.

 

When Jeff and I tried to capture the squirrel to assess its injuries, it demonstrated amazing skills at eluding capture inside the car. It ran over Brent, onto the steering wheel, across Brent’s arms, and back to the seat top. At one point, the little squirrel jumped straight onto the big dog’s head and clamped all four squirrel toes onto his doggie scalp, like a toupee! At Brent’s command, Elroy the dog froze, and the little squirrel ran down Elroy’s back to the other end of the vehicle.

 

OK, at this point I was having a hard time containing my laughter while trying my best to act professionally. Needless to say, everyone realized the squirrel wasn’t fatally injured, so laughing was also good stress relief. After several more clumsy attempts to capture this squirrel who was now flying around the back of the vehicle, Brent finally said he’d like to try the gentle approach.

 

Jeff and I backed off while Brent stretched his arm toward the squirrel. Then Brent began to sing. It was a gentle little song that he was making up as he went. Brent named the squirrel Kwaali at that moment. We couldn’t believe what happened next. The wide-eyed squirrel slowly walked up Brent’s arm and touched Brent’s face with his little squirrel nose. I am not making this up! Then Jeff made a quick grab and put Kwaali in a beer box (Pyramid IPA, I believe). We transferred him to a small kennel where we could get a good look at his injuries, noting one limp foot but use of the toes, and some scrapes on his face and jaw. This was one lucky squirrel.

 

We put together a nice bowl of food and water and brought Kwaali to one of the outdoor rehabilitation cages. We felt confident he would recover and be released soon. Snowdon takes in and successfully rehabilitates countless squirrels. Sometimes I think of Snowdon as a Youth Hostel for our young local squirrels. Just ask Sierra how many orphaned baby squirrels she has nurtured during her first year as manager!

 

At this point in my story, as we were transferring Kwaali from his beer box to the larger cage, he must have decided that the nearby bushes looked better than a cage. As Jeff grabbed the beer box for transfer, little Kwaali flew from the box and jumped onto my shoulder. He then launched squarely onto Jeff’s face and made a final bounce off into the bushes! My laughter just about brought me to my knees. Even Jeff and Brent were giggling now. Kwaali could not have chosen a better spot to release himself than the forested habitat of our wildlife sanctuary. He will have food and plenty of other squirrels for company! Go, Kwaali.

 

It Takes a Village

It Takes a village

by Macy Sonius,  December 20, 2022

My name is Macy, and I’m Snowdon’s one and only 2022 fall intern. While earning my undergraduate degree, I spent 8+ hours every other week volunteering to care for wolves and wolf dogs at a sanctuary near Fort Collins. After graduating with my B.S. in wildlife biology from Colorado State University, I accepted a position with USGS surveying Boreal toads in Rocky Mountain National Park. Though I enjoyed backpacking for a living and studying this unique endangered species, I wanted my next job to offer me more animal handling experience. When I found Snowdon’s post on Conservation Job Board, I wrote my cover letter and kept my fingers crossed. Thankfully, Sierra was impressed with my application, and our interview went great! I packed up my SUV to move outside of Colorado for the first time in my life, giddy with the prospect of rescuing wild animals. As my time at Snowdon is quickly coming to a close, I can confidently add animal handling, raptor training, primary veterinary care, and content creation to my resume. However, this internship has taught me so much beyond syringe feeding and wrapping broken wings.

            I arrived the first week of September to a frenzy of baby animals, weaned and restless, ready for release. Within two weeks of my arrival, the sanctuary buzz reduced to a quiet hum in the absence of skunks, foxes, a raccoon, a Swainson’s hawk, and a fawn. Despite our much lighter animal care load, we somehow got busier. With our open house event rapidly approaching, we hurried to make the property visitor ready. I weed-whacked until the blades dulled and painted our brand-new brushes down to stubs. Hundreds of hours of manual labor later, I took a step back to acknowledge the property looked incredible.

            On the big day, Sierra forced me out of my comfort zone and put me in charge of the education table. While maintaining the excitement and engagement for five hours was exhausting, I was shocked that it came naturally. Children and adults alike were interested in hearing about the skulls and pelts on display. Sometimes in the natural resource field, you forget what the general population considers “common knowledge.” Watching people’s faces light up with genuine curiosity while interacting with one of our artifacts made me realize how much people truly love animals. Visitors eagerly shared their critter stories with me in exchange for my impromptu wildlife lessons.

            While cleaning up after everyone left, Sierra and I struggled to comprehend how the day flew by so fast. I mulled over the thoughtful questions and good conversations and weighed each smile and curious look to find the event a massive success. Our month of chaos preparing the property and the twelve-hour workday was well worth it. Snowdon made valuable connections with the community of McCall that day, thanks to our hard work. The following weekend, I had the opportunity to engage with the community again at Oktoberfest. Once again, Sierra put me in charge of outreach. Much more confident this time, I actively engaged people as they walked by with their German beers in hand. Like at our open house, people were excited to learn about native species and support Snowdon’s mission. At this point, I had only been in Idaho for a month, and I already began recognizing faces among the renaissance dresses and suspenders. I started becoming part of this small town and its natural resource community.

            After a month of shadowing Sierra, I began answering the phone more and running errands independently. Everywhere I went, I was recognized and approached by people. One young girl saw me at the grocery store and asked how her friend Merlin was doing. A couple at the brewery sat at my table to inquire about the health of our newest cub. But, my most unique interaction was with an older gentleman at the auto shop. While I was picking up our work truck, he pulled off the highway to ask me for directions. When I asked why he wanted my advice, he told me he knew he could trust someone who worked for Snowdon. It quickly became apparent how well-known our organization is in Valley County.

            Rehab itself is complex and often emotionally exhausting, but these brief interactions showed me the positive impact we are making. Once our big fundraising events were behind us, Sierra and I began visiting schools to teach students about owls, bears, and animal adaptations. Together, we carved pumpkins for cubs with the after-school program, educated preschoolers at Roots about squirrel rehabilitation, and hosted sixty first-graders for a scavenger hunt at the sanctuary. All these programs ended up being controlled chaos, but man, we had the best time. Will the students specifically remember why black bear claws are more hooked than a grizzly’s or the details of a raptor’s diet? Of course not. But I could see in their little faces that we had successfully planted a seed. They will grow up and remember when a cub tore open their jack-o-lantern or how they used a compass to locate a “skunk” in our forest. These experiences could be what motivates them to protect their environment! We are creating future stewards of wildlife; in 10 or 15 years, they could be out in the field with me, working to conserve the same fragile ecosystems I’ve dedicated my career to protecting.

            Not only does Snowdon support the community, but the community also supports us. As a nonprofit organization, we rely on the public’s generosity to keep our doors open. These donations come in the form of monetary giving, animal transportation, and volunteer hours. Recently, we have established relationships with several generous vets and vet techs who offer us their expertise to increase the quality of care that all our animals receive. For example, Dr. Mark Drew drove from Boise to complete a critical surgery for a red-tailed hawk at no cost to our organization. Thanks to him, that hawk will live a long and happy life. Last month, Dr. Linda Donerkiel and Jaime Hill-Schriker removed our ambassador great-horned owl’s eye in the surgery suite at MCPAWS’s veterinary hospital. All parties involved donated their time and resources to help Merlin. What a testament to how much people care about our animal’s quality of life. I’m incredibly grateful for Dr. Donerkiel’s willingness to pick up the phone whenever we need her help. Occasionally, Sierra is unavailable when we receive a new intake (hard to believe, I know). Linda has driven to the sanctuary with very little notice more than once to help me with initial exams. Though we appreciate all of our volunteers, I wanted to extend a special thank you to our unpaid veterinary “staff.” These three individuals invested a large amount of money in their careers, yet they chose to volunteer with us because they care about our mission.

            Another incredible example of the community showing up to support us was the epic rescue of Murray, the bear cub. The full recount of this three-day adventure earned the front page in our holiday newsletter. So, for now, I will highlight the kindness our community showed us when we needed them the most. During our initial rescue attempt, it quickly became evident that we lacked the necessary vehicle to get us to Murray. On day one, a stranger offered his lifted truck and afternoon to transport us up the mountain. The second day, Idaho Fish and Game loaned us one of their work trucks and two sets of chains so we could try again. We were only able to make our last attempt because the people that reported the cub lent us their snowmobiles as rescue vehicles. It took a village to save this cub, and we couldn’t be more grateful for everyone’s help.

            So this is more of a story about people than animals; probably not what you expected. I am dedicating this blog to all of our supporters. Their ceaseless acts of generosity and gratitude surprise me daily. I arrived at Snowdon expecting to be isolated from the rest of McCall because of our “off-the-grid” location and irregular work schedule. Coming out of the backcountry at my last job, I expected to chat with the animals while I completed my daily to-do list. Instead, the way I have been able to interact with the public has been a wonderful surprise. I now realize I had no idea what I was getting into when I accepted this internship!

            While earning my undergrad, I learned how humanity had failed our environment. Our classes studied unsolved natural resource issues involving stakeholders whose hatred of the opposing side drove their biased arguments. Professors gave endless examples to drill mistakes made by society into our brains. This internship has given me a refreshing look at humanity. The majority of people want to defend animals and mitigate human-wildlife conflict. These community members are willing to share their time, money, and resources with our cause. As I continue my career as a wildlife biologist, I will take with me the practical skills from this job and the inspiring attitudes of the people who make rehab possible here at Snowdon.

Raising little stinkers

Raising Little Stinkers

I didn’t know what to expect during my first summer with Snowdon. Though we didn’t have many animals to care for when I first arrived in February, I managed to stay plenty busy while I got my feet under me. My winter intern, Iris, was incredibly helpful during the transition between managers and taught me all the quirks of running this off-the-grid facility. She and I spent hours organizing different parts of the property. I worked late nights, earning my wildlife rehabilitation certificate and expanding my knowledge of veterinary medicine. The spring flew by while I attempted to win over Merlin, the great-horned owl, revamp our education program, and learn how to navigate social media. All this planning would set me up perfectly for a chaos-free baby season.

The only thing I had left to do was hire my two summer interns! We received over 30 applicants and conducted eight interviews. This process was my first time being the “interviewer,” so I struggled with letting the person sell themselves to me. After all, who was I to tell someone whether or not they were qualified for the position? My board members had to remind me a few times that I was, in fact, the manager and that these people applied for the job because they *already wanted* to work for me; they had a good point. After reviewing my notes from each interview, I chose to offer the job to Alex and Allison. These two were highly motivated, impressively qualified, and seemed like they would be good friends.

Alex arrived in early May. We spent every day of her first week attending education and outreach events. Though a bit hectic, Alex managed to hit the ground running and never missed a beat. By the time Allison arrived the next week, poor Alex had already heard me give my Merlin presentation at least five times. Our first few days as a team were surprisingly mellow. Alex and Allison were bored at times and wanted more tasks assigned. But then the snow melted, and the phone never stopped ringing. Over the next two weeks, we took in 23 injured and orphaned animals. Trust me; I didn’t hear Alex or Allison complain about being bored again. 

One afternoon, while we were syringe feeding our six baby squirrels for the fifth time that day, Allison answered the work phone. Sure enough, a young couple found three baby skunks meandering on the side of the road near Riggins. We assumed that they were orphaned because they were out during the day, were too young to be alone for any amount of time, and the couple found an adult skunk carcass on the road very nearby. These are all things that people need to consider before removing a wild animal from any situation. The last thing we want to do is kidnap babies that still have parents. We appreciate that these people assessed the situation and called us before taking action. Though not every animal that appears to be in distress needs our help, these three were almost certainly orphaned by a vehicle strike. Alex and I covered the rest of the bottle feedings that day so that Allison could drive three hours round trip to pick up our newest intakes. 

While Allison was gone, Alex and I managed to look a few things up about how to raise baby skunks. According to one of my rehab textbooks, skunks, like most other omnivores, are bottle-fed with a puppy formula called “Esbilac” until weaned around ten weeks old. A preliminary google search also taught us that skunks weigh approximately 30 g at birth, apparently love to eat strawberries, and start to spray at three weeks old. So, we felt prepared to meet the little stinkers when Allison rolled up in Kelly (our trusty steed). One thing we did not expect was to be able to fit each baby into our palm! Based on their weight and number of teeth, our newest intakes were only three weeks old. Besides being dehydrated, these neonates initially appeared to be in good body condition. However, once we started to feed them Pedialyte for their first meal, we noticed the little black dots trying to move up our arms. These poor little skunks had fleas! Of all of the ectoparasites I have encountered on wild animals, I was not mentally prepared for fleas. It was time for a warm bath with lots of dawn dish soap. I have never seen anything as cute as a 3-week old skunk in a bubble bath. After half a bottle of dawn, some unflavored Pedialyte, and a lot of laundry, our skunks had a clean bill of health.

And just like that, the three of us were obsessed with the three of them. Allison named them after flowers; the most petite male was Lupine, the female was Daisy, and the larger male was Snapdragon. Every part of raising these rascals was fun. Just like Google told us, they learned how to “spray” soon after coming into our care, but it wasn’t what we expected. When skunks are little, they don’t have control over how much or when they spray. Though this may seem dangerous for those unfortunate souls that raise skunks, I am happy to tell you they don’t have the muscles to propel it at a target (us). Because of this, we lovingly called these farts. Even though they only weighed 150 g, they would still “stomp” their front paws to let us know they were ready to fart in our general direction if we stepped out of line. As they got older, their antics somehow got cuter. Finally, at five weeks old, we introduced bowls of solid foods soaked in their formula. Lupine was the first to take to this diet change and decided to hoover a whole blueberry into his mouth using both paws. The other two quickly figured out that there are better foods than Esbilac, and we slowly worked towards weaning the group. Skunks are naturally nocturnal, so every time we fed them, we watched as they unfurled from their cuddle puddle and waddled across the enclosure with squinty eyes. 

For some reason, Lupine continued to be much smaller than the other two skunks. He wasn’t quite meeting his weight targets, and his siblings were big enough that they were starting to exclude him from the food bowl. We decided that Lupine needed special attention to help him catch up to the others; we bottle-fed him for an extra two weeks. His siblings disapproved of this favoritism and would often climb their little brother to try and get to the bottle. Eventually, we learned that taking him out of the enclosure was easier to avoid this adorable form of bullying. Finally, Lupine caught up, and everyone was on solid foods! The teenage stage is my favorite part of rehab because it means moving out into their outdoor enclosures and starting enrichment. We filled a large kiddie pool with play sand, stuffed a massive cardboard tunnel with pillows, and dispersed cinder blocks for hiding food. Watching them run and wrestle in their two-story enclosure was so heartwarming. Our palm-sized fart squirrels had grown into juvenile skunks! Capable of digging for mealworms, making dens in their tunnel, and scavenging for whole prey that we stashed in various puzzle toys. These three were quickly nearing release day, and we were trying to prepare ourselves for the goodbye.

Once we weaned all of our orphans, things got quieter around the sanctuary. We went from bottle feeding 20+ reluctant mouths fourteen hours a day (plus overnight feedings) to dishing out meals like a well-oiled machine and working on projects around the property between feedings. Things were still busy, but they were far less chaotic, and I was back down to only two caffeinated beverages a day. As we settled into our new routine, the work phone had to ring. A caring citizen in McCall reported a juvenile skunk in their yard that was “behaving abnormally.” Alex and Allison could take on almost anything at this point in the summer, so I sent them a have-a-heart trap and kennel to check out the situation. Sure enough, they came home with our fourth skunk an hour later. During our initial assessment, we recognized that there was something seriously wrong. The poor little girl was having uncontrollable seizures and drooling heavily. I contacted our wildlife veterinarian, Dr. Drew, to explain the skunk’s symptoms, and he agreed poison was most likely the culprit. This patient required intensive care for her first three days; subcutaneous fluids multiple times a day, oral drugs, and intramuscular injections of steroids. All these things helped flush the toxins out of her little body and allowed the standard function to continue during these seizures. Unfortunately, during those three days, we received two more skunks and a fox from the same neighborhood, all of which had the same symptoms. So much for us having free time to work on projects between feedings. 

As our three new skunks started to feel better, they became feistier. Handling them to administer fluids and steroids kept getting harder. Being poked with multiple needles a day wasn’t fun for anyone; it didn’t help that we couldn’t explain it was for their own good. Sure enough, we got sprayed while handling our first arrival to administer her last round of fluids. We had managed to avoid this certainty for so long that it took us all by surprise. The three skunks we raised gave us so much warning with their stomps and vocalizations that we rarely got even close to getting sprayed by them. They were also perfectly healthy by the time they were old enough to direct their spray, so we had no reason to handle them. But these skunks were mad that they were being dealt with every day and took it out on us as soon as they felt better. Each of us got sprayed that first week. Even after we stopped having to give them injections, cleaning their enclosure became hazardous. Because I am the manager of this establishment, I had to get sprayed the most. Going to May Hardware to buy skunk shampoo in the pet aisle was not my finest moment. My skin, clothes, and, even worse, my hair reeked for three weeks. Though getting sprayed wasn’t a pleasant experience, it meant that we had successfully rehabbed three intensive-care patients.

Our hard work paid off in September as we slowly said goodbye to each group of orphans we raised over the summer. We decided to keep each skunk family together when it came time to return them to the wild. After multiple weeks of scavenging on their own and practicing their self-defense tactics, we decided all six of our striped friends were ready for release. We crated them up, managed to get Kelly up a long bumpy road, and hiked them into a meadow I had scouted out a few weeks prior. The environment in this area was perfect for them. It had very little human disturbance, a large rodent and insect population, a creek meandering through it, and soft ground for them to excavate a den for winter. When it came time to open the kennel, I was confident they had everything they needed to thrive. We stayed and watched their round little bodies meander through the grass. Their noses immediately drove them, sniffing inside every hole they found in the earth, clawing around for their first hard-earned meal. We spotted three bottlebrush tails sticking up between the reeds as they started to disappear near the horizon. I took a beat to revel at that moment, blinked away a tear before anyone could notice, and turned to start the hike back to the truck. After all, I still had mouths to feed back at the sanctuary.

Like most of our intakes, all six of these skunks came to us because of a human-wildlife conflict. A vehicle strike most likely orphaned our first three. Though everyone in this area would benefit from driving slower, I understand that vehicle strikes happen. I am grateful that someone noticed the three tiny striped puff balls meandering aimlessly and thought to contact their local wildlife rehabilitator. The second batch of skunks came into our care due to a lack of foresight. Both wild and domestic animals can consume rodenticides with lethal consequences. Even if only mice or voles eat the poison, it takes weeks for those rodents to die. In the meantime, they are slow-moving targets for predatory species. Rodenticide can inadvertently move up the food chain from a mouse to a raptor, coyote, fox, or raven. There are many other, much more environmentally friendly, rodent removal options. Snap and electronic traps are just as effective and have far less collateral damage. 

As a wildlife rehabilitator, I see the consequences of human-wildlife conflicts daily. Though these things are challenging to see, I must remain level-headed and focus on the things I can change. I know I can’t save every animal that comes through our doors, but I don’t accept that all these conflicts are inevitable. The best way to keep animals out of my clinic is through education. Simple conversations save animals’ lives, whether at a presentation at Ponderosa, a fundraiser at Broken Horn, a first-grade classroom, or while I pick up an animal. The number one thing I have to teach people in Valley County is that we share this area with wildlife. Everything you do affects the ecosystem around you; that effect doesn’t always have to be negative! Taking your bird feeders down in the summer can prevent a bear from becoming habituated and save its life. Putting clings from the dollar store on your windows can prevent window strikes by songbirds trying to migrate in the spring and fall. Picking up after your pet in town keeps foxes from contracting mange. Keeping your cat inside protects vulnerable prey species that have not adapted to have domesticated killers in their environment. So let’s focus on what we can do for the wildlife we cohabitate with in Valley County. In the meantime, you know who to call the next time you find an animal in need. 

Little Yoga bear

Little Yoga Bear

By Erin Rohlman

 

Ever since my husband Jeff and I moved to the McCall area in 1986, it seems we have been involved with helping Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary and its founder Linda DeEulis. Jeff is a retired Wildlife Biologist (Regional Manager) with Idaho Department of Fish & Game and is now on the Snowdon Board of Directors.  I am also retired, and having always been a huge wildlife advocate, I’ve been volunteering more for the sanctuary since Linda’s passing. Jeff and I also operate a satellite wildlife care facility at our home for Snowdon’s special needs cases.

 

So, when there was a 3-month gap between managers one year at Snowdon, we happily stepped in to manage the facility, along with help from other Board members and a trove of dedicated volunteers. It was in the fall of 2017 when we received a particularly distressing call from Jake – Jake had a bear cub in his house. It was snowing and a bitter cold November day, and we wondered how this man ended up with a bear cub in his house. The cub would be 9 months old at this point and surely far too big and feisty for someone to have in a house, so…. Hmmmm…. Jake said that he found the cub lying in the road near his house. He instinctively just scooped it up in a blanket and rushed it home. The cub didn’t put up any sort of fight. Over the phone, Jake said that the cub was small and appeared injured and, in fact, that its head was “oozing.” Jeff immediately contacted the Idaho Fish & Game Regional Manager to coordinate with her regarding this rescue need.

 

We soon arrived at Jake’s house in a particularly blinding snow swirl. Several friendly border collies appeared out of nowhere to greet us. They seemed to multiply out of the snow dust! But it was all tail wags and some puppy love, so all was good. Then Jake appeared and escorted us into the house. What I saw next was heartbreaking. A tiny bear cub, one of the smallest I’ve ever seen, was staggering around the kitchen area. Its back was hunched, and its face was so thin that it didn’t even look like a bear. In fact, Jake pulled up a cell phone image of a sloth bear from Asia and asked me if this is what the cub was! I said “No, this is a starving black bear cub. It is near death.” Then I had to choke back a few tears. Jake and his wife showed us how they had set up a crate with lots of warm blankets, food, water, and a tiny tether to keep the cub from crawling off. They had kept it overnight and fed it lots of bananas and apples, which it devoured each time something was offered. Just as I remarked that bears don’t usually like bananas, Jake peeled one and the cub grabbed it slowly and ate it. The couple and their two young children had taken care of this dying cub the previous evening, and by the time we saw it the following morning, the cub had regained enough energy to do a little hissing and chomping at the humans. This was a very good sign! The bad sign, however, was the infected head wound. It was oozing and nasty, looking like the cub had been attacked by a predator or perhaps hit by a car some time ago. I wasn’t hopeful that a bear cub at this level of starvation could survive an infection like that. Jeff managed to get the cub into our crate, and we thanked Jake and his family for saving this little female bear. The kids had named her Yogi but then changed it to Yoga when they saw it was female. Soon, we were off in our snowstorm for the drive to Snowdon to begin her rehabilitation.

 

As we approached the gate at the sanctuary, we intercepted the new winter caretaker on her way out. Her name was Erin, too, and I asked if she wanted to help us give medical attention to a starving bear cub. She turned her car around faster than I thought possible in deep snow! This was Erin’s second day at Snowdon, and it turned out to be the bear cub’s lucky day that we brought Erin back with us. It seems Erin had lots of wildlife rehabilitation experience, and, even better, she loved to dress infected wounds! Infections are not my favorite thing at all, and to tell the truth, I have been known to gag at the sight and smell of such things. Jeff is much more tolerant of dry heaving, so he usually deals with this part of life as we help our animal friends through such traumas. So, with this bear cub, Jeff sedated her and did a physical exam, Erin masterfully drained and dressed the head wound and injected subcutaneous fluids to counter the severe dehydration, while I played nurse, handing them supplies and taking notes. We put this tiny thing on the scale and had to recoil when it read just ten pounds. A nine-month-old cub that weighed ten pounds was simply heart-wrenching. The tiny body had not an ounce of fat on it. Yoga had been starving for quite some time, probably losing her mother back in June and fending for herself for the past five months. No one could believe she had survived this long. It is against all odds.

 

Yoga spent the next several days in a large crate inside the warm sanctuary clinic building. The outside temperatures were dipping below freezing, and we knew little Yoga didn’t have any body fat for insulation. We also knew it was time to transfer her to an outside pen when, after about five days inside, she showed a lot more normal bear cub aggression during feedings and cage cleanings. Before we let her go, though, we had to “decorate” her outdoor pen. I wanted it to have plenty of places for her to hide, so Erin and June, our Snowdon Board of Directors president, helped me cut and haul in some tree branches to place all around Yoga’s pen, weaving a few through the chain link fencing, and making lots of soft places to nest in. Jeff spent about an hour cub-proofing this pen, which had previously been used for a bobcat as well as many rounds of orphaned ducks and geese. Turns out it had a few holes in the fencing that this tiny cub could squeeze through, or worse, get injured from during any escape attempts. Jeff patched them all quickly and thoroughly. After that, the pen was Yoga’s little paradise for 6 weeks. She had a huge array of gourmet foods at her disposal…. savory designer dog food recently donated by our local pet store, lots of apples, greens, berries, honey, peanut butter, meat chunks of donated fish, beef, pork, venison, and whatever else anyone could give her to that might add fat to her tiny body. The plan was to move her into the one-acre forested pen with another orphaned cub as soon as she gained enough weight. Yoga needed strength to fend him off should the other male cub be aggressive around the food bowl.

 

Soon enough, it became hugely apparent that all our TLC paid off for Yoga. After six weeks, we decided it was time for her move in with the other cub. She needed to climb real trees and become a real bear, hopefully making fast friends with the other cub. Jeff sedated Yoga for one last health assessment and weight. The health check was amazing! First, she weighed a whopping 44 pounds. No way! – the scale must be off. We weighed her again to make sure it wasn’t off by 20 pounds or so. We had all guesstimated she weighed 24 pounds. But no, it was 44 pounds. When we spread her out to check her former head wound, the fat covering her body rippled like Jell-O at every touch. Even her head wound had completely healed. A nice patch of dark brown fur had covered every square millimeter of what had been an open wound. She was not even going to have a scar! I noticed that her undercoat of fur was coming in gray/brown rather than her normal light brown coat. It was really pretty, reminding me of a roan-colored horse, one of my favorite horse colors. I think perhaps the stress of starvation changed her coat color for this year, and maybe her future coats will return to brown. But I kind of hope not, since that roan color was just so darn cool. We finished Yoga’s exam and took her out to her new home for the next seven months. She eventually woke up from her sedation, staggered around a bit, ate an apple, and then finally made her way out the door and into the snow and trees of her new pen. I got a few cool photos of her climbing her first tree. Once we saw that she was back in control of her limbs and could climb like a pro, we left her to explore her new acre of forest and meet her new bear cub roommate.

 

Just a few days after her release into the large enclosure, Jeff noted that both sets of snowy bear cub tracks led into a winter den structure that we had stuffed with fresh hay. The two cubs had found each other and were now denning together in the shelter to pass the winter months! I teared up as I reflected that this was the best thing I could have hoped for. These cubs, who started off life in the worst possible way, were now happy, warm, well-fed, and on their way to resuming wild lives, now with a best buddy.

 

In early June, Jeff was able to catch the two cubs and release them into the wild, both in the same area. They were released about 5 hours apart because they were caught at different times in their sanctuary pen. However, Jeff was confident they would reunite soon using their incredible senses of smell. Hopefully they could explore their new wild habitat together for several months before natural instincts kicked in, sending them on separate journeys. This is, after all, the best we could possibly hope for with wild bears.

 Tiny bear cub found along road in November

Yoga’s belly fat after 6 weeks at Snowdon

Indy & I

Indi & I

 by Allison Burr, September 2, 2022

My name is Allison and I am the second intern here at Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary. I’ve always loved working with animals but quickly found that I wanted my focus to be on wildlife. The ecological, genetic, and physiological differences in species fascinate me and I’m always spouting out biological facts to anyone that will listen. Because of this, I originally pursued a career in wildlife veterinary science and started my undergraduate at Montana State University majoring in animal science and organismal biology. As I got closer to graduation, the amount of schooling and money required in this field made wildlife veterinary medicine an increasingly less appealing career choice. I began frantically searching for other wildlife fields that might interest me. Veterinary clinics, agricultural studies, and conservation work, all had their pros and cons, but none of them felt right. This summer, I decided to look into wildlife rehabilitation. Snowdon Wildlife Sanctuary was at the top of the list with relative proximity to home and an expansive range of species treated, cared for, and released. 

 

I was fairly confident in my prior experience coming into this internship. Two years ago I spent a summer in Southern California, interning at the California Wolf Conservation Center. They were raising Mexican Grey Wolves for release into the southern US to boost wild population numbers, which were slowly recovering from near extinction. On the property, they had 5 packs of Mexican Grey Wolves and 2 packs of North American Grey Wolves. I loved working there and it developed a solid foundation for entering my internship here at Snowdon. One of the things it didn’t prepare me for was working with birds. Before I arrived at Snowdon 2 1/2 months ago,  I had never even held a bird, let alone cared for an injured one. I was very excited to have the opportunity to learn about and gain experience with birds. Now, just a few short months later, I have a new appreciation for birds, from the smallest passerine to a great Bald Eagle. 

 

If you’ve ever peeked into the fascinating world of raptors, you have most likely heard about the peregrine falcon. They’re relatively average in size, nowhere near the size of a condor or a vulture, but much larger than little Kestrels or smaller Owls. You wouldn’t expect this little creature, about the size of a Chihuahua, to be the fastest animal on earth. When peregrine falcons locate their prey, they angle their body towards the ground and go into a dive, known in bird nerd circles as a “stoop.” They can reach 200 mph during a stoop, and the fastest on record is 242 mph. To come out of this, their little bodies need to withstand up to 25 Gs of force, much higher than what you or I could handle before passing out. This free-fall dive begins around a kilometer up in the air and to keep the fast-moving air from flooding their nostrils mid-dive, they have a specialized bone structure in their nostril called a baffle. It acts as a levee to keep shockwaves of high-speed air from causing damage to their lungs. Engineers were inspired by this baffle, adding them to jet turbines to prevent the engine from “choking” on waves of air resistance. Peregrine falcons also have a particularly long keel; a bone ridge that protrudes off the sternum of all flighted birds. This length allows for additional muscle attachment and more powerful wingbeats, helping them pull out of that nose dive. Because of this, they can beat their wings up to 4 times per second. These amazing raptors are perfectly adapted for catching birds mid-flight.

Indy the peregrine falcon came to Snowdon after a nasty tangle with barbed wire in her first year of flight. She had broken her wing in a way that meant she’d never fly again. After surgery to amputate the end of her wing, she made a home for herself at Snowdon. She was trained as an ambassador and helped educate Valley county about all of the amazing wildlife we have here in Idaho. She picked up on training quickly, as many juvenile birds do when introduced to ambassador work. The older an animal is, the less likely they are to adapt to life in captivity. Indy served as one of Snowdon’s favorite ambassadors for many incredible years; going out to amphitheaters and classrooms to show off her killer adaptations. Once the pandemic started, Indy couldn’t go out to events, and like many of her human companions, she got very comfortable in her home. Indy didn’t see more than a handful of people while we were all quarantining. During this time she became thoroughly bonded to her few handlers and crowds became a source of anxiety. This year, with the echoes of Covid starting to die out, we began rebuilding our education and outreach program. With Indy’s newfound anxiety, we quickly realized that even though the world was ready to get back to normal, she would need some time before she was ready as well. 

 

When I arrived at Snowdon, our only animals were the two resident birds, four bears, and a baby squirrel. Very quickly, we were flooded with all kinds of babies. From squirrels to raccoons to deer to skunks, we were running around all day trying to keep everyone fed and warm. As the baby season started to slow down and we had a minute to take a breath, I began spending more time with Indy in her enclosure. We were attempting to get her more comfortable with us in her space by feeding her by hand. Initially, we would have to wait patiently while she worked up the courage to grab a piece of quail and fully consume it while we were present. As she began to acclimate to eating with us in the enclosure, we decided to use food to encourage her to get on and off a scale. This limited the stress of handling during a check-up and allowed us to keep a close eye on her weight while we tried this new training regime. She began growing accustomed to hopping on the scale to get her reward and seemed to learn that working with us meant food. Another source of anxiety for Indy was her hood. She had associated the hood with leaving her safe space, which caused her to have an aversion to the hood altogether. Our solution was to place the hood on a hook in her enclosure where she could always see it. This way, it was no longer associated with any additional activities. One day, while I was feeding Indy on her scale, I decided to pick her hood up off the hook and set it on the platform next to her. Over time, I moved it closer and closer, until it was so close she accidentally picked up the hood instead of her food! With each day, Indy became more accustomed to the hood being near her, held close to her, and moved around her enclosure. As she and I spent more time together during training sessions, Indy became accustomed to me as well. As of two weeks ago, she is much more willing to take food from my hand rather than wait until I place it on the ground. As someone who has never worked with a bird before, I was fascinated by watching the gears turn in her head. I never thought I would learn to read a raptor’s body language, but here I was, predicting her behaviors before she acted on them. After desensitizing her to the hood, I moved back to focusing on her scale. I needed an end goal, and getting her ready for the public again was a long way off. I decided getting her comfortable leaving her enclosure was a solid milestone. To do that, she would need to stand still in a specific spot so we could put her hood on. The scale would work perfectly for this. Indy was confused at first about why I refused to give her food, no matter how close to me or to the hood she got. She tried everything, and no matter how much I tapped the scale, she failed to understand what I was asking. Finally, she landed on the scale in a wild attempt to get to the quail I had in a Tupperware container. She knew the scale was where she usually got food, but this was our first time combining the scale cue and the hood. As soon as her feet touched the carpet, I held her treat through the hood and she grabbed it without hesitation. It didn’t take many more attempts until she had it down. She quickly learned what she needed to accomplish to get positive reinforcement. I had no idea that training a wild-born raptor would closely mirror training a domestic pet.

 

During my last two weeks at Snowdon, I hope to get Indy comfortable standing on the scale while I place the hood on her. I know this is a high goal, but with the progress she’s made recently, I have high hopes. As my internship comes to an end and the next season arrives, I hope that Indy continues to advance in her training. Maybe one day she’ll be confident enough to give the newest residents of Valley county a chance to meet her and learn why she is my favorite ambassador.