Loss.

I won't lie and say there hasn't been much sadness lately. Not to be trite, but as they say "When it rains, it pours." This week has been one of many endings. A few happy stories have been the silver lining that have kept this girl woven together. So, here are some of the stories.

Todd Fox
A while back I wrote an entry about grooming our old man fox, Todd. And when I say old, I mean old--15 years, which is pretty ridiculous for a canine, and considering he would only live half that in the wild, it is a feat. For the past two years, he's gotten to a very geriatric stage, and the senesence which was making him fade, as it does to us all, had been often discussed--how long would he have? Well a few days ago he was seen limping in his enclosure, flies swarming around a particular foot. We got together a plethora of supplies and went to his home. Think about a wiley fox. Think about that burnt colored fur, the quick jumps. Todd had gotten much past this foxy stage. Though markedly still a fox in shape, his fur had taken on a whitened appearance, especially around the muzzle. He appeared to have a white beard. His movements were slow and labored, arthritis taking its toll. The morning of the procedure, he was easily caught and restrained. He got set up on an IV line, so he could get some fluids in him, and one technician brushed him as the other examined his foot. The skin between his toes was raw and red, and maggots were present. The wound was flushed many times, and an antibiotic injection was administered. We felt pretty good about the procedure overall, and everything else on him looked to be good, so we left. Throughout the day, we got reports that Todd was doing well. However, the next morning, it was reported that Todd was not walking right. He seemed to be in a great deal of pain, and after an hour or so of such a display, he laid down in his enclosure, obviously in a labored physical state. People visiting the zoo had become quite concerned, and we were as well, so it was time to get him off exhibit and into the vet wing. He was caught and given a sedative, and then crated back to the clinic. Upon examination in the clinic we saw a huge congregation of maggots all throughout his fur and when the vet spread his hind legs, the whole abdomen between was raw and wet. What had happened was urine scalding. He had gotten to  a state where he could not properly urinate while standing and then move away from the urine, and thus it had begun to damage the tissue between his legs. At thhis point we knew it was time. Todd had lived a very long life, and it seems to have gotten to a point where he could no longer take care of himself. I'm sure it is always a hard decision to euthanize an animal. Certainly in domesticated animals, life can be prolonged even when the animal cannot take care of itself, because owner contact allows for such care. Who's to say if this prolonging is right or wrong? What I shall comment on, though, is that in the case of captive wild animals, when they can no longer take care of their own body, they have nothing. Treatment of an animal you cannot touch regularly is very difficult. It takes incredible skill and patience to make a diagnosis from afar and to treat something from afar as well. In this case, prolonging Todd's life would only have lead to his suffering. All his keepers got to say goodbye to him, and he was given drugs to make him very calm. By the time he received the injection to take him away, his eyes were droopy and he had the sly grin of a true fox on his face. And now he can enjoy, as someone put it, "the great chicken coop in the sky."

Little Cheeks
Here at the zoo, we had the oldest living King Vulture in existence. At age 45, Little Cheeks was a sight to behold. King Vultures have a very endearing curious look about them.

She went quickly, within an hour, she was observed to be lying down low, and was found dead shortly after. No true ailment, other than old age, which truly in its own way is a form of disease, took her. In assisting the necropsy, the heart and kisneys were swollen and covered in white speckles, as if someone had taken powdered sugar and sprinkled it over the organs. Time will cause such damage. Performing the necropsy didn't lead to any surprise ailments, but it was a good learning experience for many people who got to observe it and thus learn about anatomy and the damage getting old causes internally.

Other losses
Because I was not involved in these other cases at length, it will suffice for me to mention the other losses we had this week. A beautiful, old male Vulturine Guinea died, and in his intestine, many parasitic worms were found. And this morning, an old female Black and White Colobus Monkey passed away. Though in my eyes the loss of any living creature is a sad event, these larger and older animals that have really marked personalities, those that have really made an impression on many people were very hard to say goodbye to.

Birds of a feather
We had two interesting cases come in this week from the aviary. One was a budgerigar who had gotten in a fight with another parakeet, and when she was brought in to the vet wing, the crate was splattered throughout with blood. One of the technicians immediately named it "Freddy Kreuger keet," though we did later find out she was a girl. Thankfully, the large amount of blood was from a relatively small toe injury, which we got cleaned up in a jiffy, and Fredina is doing quite well among the other ICU parakeets. The other bird we had come in this week was a grey cockatiel who was squawking up a storm when I walked in to the procedure. I walked up and was horrified to see that the bird had only one eye! However, as it turned out, the little guy truly did have both eyes. The one eye was just terribly sunken in- collapsed, and it was all due to a piece of spinach stuck beneath the globe, which the vet had pulled out just prior. Eye drops, pain meds, and TLC were prescibed, and thus far, though fiesty, the new guy is doing well.

The pinned pintail- another update
Well, thankfully I can end this entry on a happy note. The little pintail who got his leg pinned, and then had the pins removed, was doing really well after the removal of the bone pins. However, two days later, he was observed by a keeper to be swimming only in a circle and not acting right. He was brought into the vet wing, where we observed severe ataxia. Ataxia is basically a medical word for not walking correctly. The poor little guy would try to take a step with his big clown feet and would then proceed to fall on his tiny bill. A few times he even flipped over onto his back. He kept trying and trying to take steps, but would continually fall. It was a pitiful sight. Upon deciding that his problem was likely bacterial, we started treating him on antibiotics and giving him lots of love. In the past two days, his condiion has drastically improved. On the first day, he had to be force fed and have fluids injected frequently into the subcutaneous layer inside his thigh. On day two, he was eating well on his own, but remained lying down, still having a hard time walking. On day three, he was standing on his own frequently, cheeping at me often (so I have begun to affectionately call him "Cheeper", due to his darling baby duck whistle that sounds like 'cheep, cheep, cheep'), snapping at my hand every time it enters the cage, and thoroughly enjoying bathtime. We decided that as a diving duck, he really was probably getting quite depressed sitting in the ICU cage all day. Since he was doing so well on that third day, we put a little water in the big sink and let him play in it. It was honestly the most precious site I have seen in a long time. He would put his bill in the water's flow and shake his head rapidly from side to side, relishing in the water. He eagerly stuck his face under for food we dropped in and sucked it up, mouth slapping like a super-speed motor to take in the grain. He eagerly stuck his head under the water repeatedly at an attempt to dive (which he was unable to do because the water was shallow). He swam happily and preened himself. Often, he would shake his little butt feathers rapidly and he even started calling at one point. This time, he call wasn't just a cheep. It was a cheep-quack, which I truly cannot describe. It was like when a teenage boy's voice is changing and will abruptly crack in a sentence. The look of shock on said boy's face at the sound that escaped him is exactly what that duckling did. And then he proceeded to flick his face in the water's flow again.