Aviary Updates

I continue to be perplexed about cities. Where in the world do people park all the cars that seem to emerge like thousands of beetles piling onto one another every day at 4:00 pm? There are about 5,000 roads that all lead to the same places, and I think this has to do with needing space for the beetles to sprawl, or else they truly would begin to pile and end up toppling over the edge of the big yellow bridges into the river. I used to use time to destination as a description of the rural-ness of my home town. I would exclaim that it took twenty minutes to go to Wal-mart, which for me is an indication that Wal-mart is fifteen miles away, and thus I live in a small town. I now realize that describing things in units of time rather than distance was foolish. It takes twenty minutes to travel two miles in a city, and so this unit of time meant absolutely nothing impressive.

I found some refuge in a nature preserve today--an old farm that possesses about 5 miles of hiking trails. While the going was easy in this relatively flat landscape, it did comfort me to be surrounded by trees and green and to watch wild animals and not hear cars for a few hours.

Things at my internship have been going fairly well recently. We had two sad and serious emergency cases that I assisted in. The first case feels too grave to write of. The second was a baby boat-billed heron that fell from his nest along with a sibling. Despite intensive treatments, emergency drugs, and CPR, one of the two chicks died. I performed the necropsy and was confronted with massive internal hemorrhaging, due to various organ damages, including a fractured liver. (I'd never seen a fractured liver before). Thankfully, the second chick was less critical on presentation, and with the help of the vet staff is now doing fabulous. He will soon leave ICU and return to his home exhibit in a small cage for observation for a while until he is ready to be released into the larger exhibit. This scenario is not a unique one among captive birds. In the wild, birds fall out of the nest regularly, and they die. It may be because they are not healthy, and can't properly keep themselves in the nest. It may be because they are unhealthy or not neurologically sound, and the parents push them, because they are not viable offspring. It may be caused by another bird flying over or attempted predation. It may be pure accident. Whatever the cause, it is not unnatural for a baby bird to fall from a nest. Hand-rearing all babies born in captivity could prevent nest accidents, but is not in the best interest of the birds. Babies do best when they are raised by their parents and taught natural behaviors of their species. Babies raised by humans often suffer from imprinting, and become confused about their identity. Confused birds often lash out against humans or are overly-friendly with them in adulthood, making them unsuitable for a zoo situation. While sad to have lost this baby, I am thankful the sibling survived and that it can go back to its home very soon. Isn't it just precious?

I've been enjoying following some of our resident patients who stay off exhibit permanently due to chronic conditions. Bam continues to be adorable, and we have found that if you play a seriema call on your phone, he will call back to it. Here he is getting a physical exam to check on how his arthritis pain is doing.

Two of our chronic cases of bumble foot that we are treating are coming along nicely. Bumblefoot is also known as pododermatitis. Basically, the skin on the bottom of the foot becomes infected. It is a common problem of bird in captivity. Basically, the bottom of the bird's feet get irritated for any number of reasons from rough perching to being on their feet more than they would in the wild to wet floors, etc. The irritated skin is susceptible to infection with resident Staph bacteria. Further tissue trauma can lead to infection with other bacteria or yeast. Management of bumblefoot can be intensive and take a long time, but I am pleased to say that our two cases that we are treating several times a week with new bandages, topical debriding, flushing, antibiotics, antifungals, and soft footing in their enclosures are healing nicely. There is still a long road ahead, but watching that pink, fresh granulation tissue start to fill in the area is very satisfying.

We've been doing some yearly physical exams on penguins lately. These little guys are so well behaved. They attend birthday parties here, and have been on TV more than once lately due to the Pittsburgh Penguins winning the Stanley Cup. They walk onto the scale for us before our exam and walk back into their crates. The only time they aren't exactly angels is during blood draws. We have to get blood from penguins from a vein that runs across the top of their foot. Their feathers are way too dense to be able to get blood from a wing vein or from the jugular, so the foot is the best option. However, they tend to kick alot right before the needle goes in. It makes for a frustrating experience, but the talented vets here are quick on the draw, and we have been able to get blood on all the penguins I have assisted with thus far. Here's one of the girls getting weighed in a bucket. She didn't want to stand still on the scale so she had to be contained.

The sloth continues to be adorable, and he is growing very fast. He's now producing poops every two days or so! (An adult sloth in the wild poops about once every 7 days, but he's growing fast now). Let me tell you, sloth poop is stinky, people. I adore the little creature, but doing his laundry is not a favorite chore of mine.

Speaking of laundry...I found a recent quote that really appealed to me. I think many people don't recognize that the nature of zoo medicine is one where your patients live with you. Not only are we responsible for their healthcare, but for their feeding, sleeping, breeding, and cleaning. This involvement allows for really comprehensive medical care, and I really appreciate that part of the job, but it also can have its frustrations. The quote is from the book "Life at the Zoo," which I am currently reading.

"The zoo is like a living creature, demanding to be fed, bathed, and nurtured in a daily ritual of reincarnation." 

Each morning, the routine begins again. All is scrubbed from yesterdays mess and made ready for the new mess of today. You get to know the patients on an intimate level, and for better or worse, they come to know you on an intimate level, as well.

Petting an Elephant [and other, less important, things].

I've been trying to take time to love myself. I both do that to an insane degree and not at all in vet school. While I absorb myself in my goals and my dreams and my work, I often forget to remember that I am more than my career choice. I went to a restaurant by myself tonight. I've never done that. But I got home from work, starved and not feeling at all up to cooking, and dying to get out of my little apartment that has become my world other than work, so I went to a restaurant down the street. I'm tipsy from my one blue moon. I blame this on the severe dehydration I experience at work, despite drinking tons of water. However, the intoxication is good, because it has encouraged me to write when little else has recently. So, anyway, I ate by myself. I always look at people eating alone (especially old people) in restaurants and my heart feels like it's breaking. I think that's the extrovert in me. I assume they are lonely and sad and wish for company, because that is my general way. My dinner alone was not too bad, though. I spoke to my two barstool neighbors, both men older than me. The first was nice and polite, the second was drunk as a skunk and chattering on about things that made no sense at all. But I found him entertaining, and I enjoyed my beer and chicken tenders. I needed a good meal after this week.

I think I'm finding it hard to write because I can't be fully honest on here. I'm not good at not being fully honest. I must explain those stories and feelings which are good and pleasant.  So, I think to focus myself to the task at hand, I will write 10 good things that have happened since I last wrote. 

1. I got to pet an elephant! I went to the zoo the other day by myself in the ninety degree weather, and I had the best time ever. I got to observe elephants and a tiger swimming in their ponds. I watched a baby gorilla slyly tap his dad on the shoulder and go running so when the dad turned he didn't see the child. Classic trick, gorilla baby. I watched monkeys grooming and sharks swimming and lions lounging. And I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I saw a sign saying that I could have my picture taken with an elephant for money, and it was in fifteen minutes. I grabbed a quick ice cream cone and waited diligently for my chance to take a picture with an elephant. When I got up to the front of the line, the woman said, "Just you?" And I proudly handed her my token showing that I had paid and said, "Yes!" (As if you need a companion to take a picture with an elephant...psh!) I had watched timid families standing a few feet away from Victoria (I had asked her name) and gently touching an ear when allowed to pet her. I came up and exuberantly started scratching her face and talking to her and feeling my heart positively explode with joy. It has been a few years since I have touched an elephant. I wish I could do it every day. They are so majestic and wonderful and ah! 

2. The baby sloth, Valentino. Every morning, when I come in, I go and say hi to the sweetest little being ever. He's typically wrapped up in his sleeping box, underneath his blue blanket. I say, "Good morning sweet baby," and he, in slow sloth manner, gently raises the blanket from one eye, then gently from the other and looks sleepily at me. Some mornings he has been grumpy when woken, and showed me his teeth before pulling the blanket over his head again. Other mornings, he climbs out of his nest and starts hanging on the bars and making adorable squeaking noises. He has the world's tiniest pupils. I am so excited when his trainers come in to work with him, teaching him how to climb on his portable tree-like apparatus for encounters. He has a variety of treats to reward him, but he prefers to eat his boiled egg and doesn't often want to touch his vegetables. I'm not allowed to touch him. His trainers are working to keep him from bonding dependently on humans. However, my little chats with him in the morning, and just watching him be this slow little snuggly baby make my heart joyful. 

3.  This call duck named Milo. I don't know what it is about this little sassafras that wants to eat all our faces and take over the world that I love so much. She hates everyone but herself. She loves to look in her mirror and watch her sleek white body glide across her pond. She loves to make a mess of her food, and gets incredibly impatient if it is not presented to her immediately. She has a tiny, incessant quack-quack-quack that is meant to be threatening to us humans, but is actually pretty adorable sounding. When you have to do anything with her, such as move her into a crate to clean her cage, or even just put new water in with her, she goes full attack mode. She flings her little body at your hands and arms with that quack-quack-quack and starts nipping you all over with her bill. Her bites pinch, but not too bad. She considers herself to be the star of this show and to control all of us, and yet she is tiny and adorable and can't do much harm. I believe its her never-dying bold spirit that I am so in love with. 

4. The African grey parrots. We have two of them. Earl Grey and Zane Grey. They absolutely amaze me. They can both speak, and they like to imitate various workers at the aviary, often repeating "Hello, Earl" in various voices. They make phone text message alerts that sound so real you often check your phone. Early particularly likes to sing, and when I am cleaning in his room, we often spend the morning matching pitch on little 3-4 note songs he makes up. He doesn't much like to repeat my songs, so I usually just end up repeating his creations. They are so intelligent and beautiful, and they both amaze me. 

5. A sweet crested coua named Brad. This is another bird that I've grown quite fond of. He has a malformed foot and is kept with us because he needs special bandages to protect that foot. He has gorgeous blue eyeliner and a tiny grey mowhawk. He stays in his cage while you are cleaning it, and the first time I stuck my head in there, he perched in my hair. He gets a little mouse (dead) with his breakfast, and he prefers to take it out of my hand rather than fly down to retrieve it. I bend to his wishes because he has alot of personality. 

6. A winery trip and visit to my landlord's house. My landlord is a sweet old Italian man who loves good food as much as I do. I believe I mentioned him taking me to a delicious restaurant previously. A few days ago, the other people who live in my house and me drove out of the city and met him at a really cool winery near his house. We sat outside under an arch way that had grape vines crawling up it, right beside a babbling stone fountain, and enjoyed bottles of fruity wine and delicious pasta. After dinner, he was determined to show me his little farm. I felt as if I were in a novel, and he were an eccentric character. The farm house was a typical white two-story, but inside was not typical at all. On his dining room table sat several jars of little candies, all of which he tried to send us home with. On his walls, from floor to ceiling, even going up the stairs and into the second floor, were pictures and paintings. His mother in law was an artist, apparently, and as he had heard that I like to paint, proceeded to show me every one of the eighty or so original paintings of hers hung all over the house. He also wanted to explain his pictures, They were all held in a manner that he specifically explain to me as an economical way to hang pictures. Various 5x7s had been taped to a piece of thick poster board and covered over with a sheet of plexiglass. The plexiglass was held to the poster board with huge binder clips on each side. Beside his bed, he had three large dog beds for his one old arthritic dog named Sandy, who clearly adored him. What areas of the house didn't contain modest furniture one might expect to see in a flea market were covered in stacks and stacks of books. He told me his life history, of his late wife, of his travels, and many many acquaintances. This precious act of trust and need for companionship that allowed him to invite us into his home absolutely touched my heart. 

7. My new pet mouse. I was feeling quite whimsical after my trip to the zoo and aquarium the other day, and I decided that I needed a fish to take care of. I'm always wanting something to take care of, and I missed having a pet with me. I traveled to the pet store after the zoo and spent some time looking at fish equipment. It was all fairly expensive, and I have a really bad track record and keeping fish alive for long. I gave up on the idea and was merely perusing the small rodents, when I saw a little black mouse with a note on his cage saying he was two years old (mice only live to be about 3) and had been dropped at the humane society. Wouldn't you love to let him spend his twilight years with you? I think it was the use of the words "twilight years" (or maybe I just have a problem, but I'm not trying to admit that here now). Needless to say, I ended up deciding I must adopt this little senior mouse. Okay, fine, I have a problem. Back home, I have the absolute works to take care of rodents. I had made my gerbils the Taj Mahal of gerbils when I had them. However, that stuff is back home. So what did I do? I spent the last of my meager savings purchasing things I already have in order to adopt a mouse that will probably live less than a year. But he's sweet and happy and makes tunnels in his bedding all night long. I haven't handled him too much yet, because I want him to get settled in, but alas, I am with another pet. I think this will be my constant exclamation over the years. Not, "I am with child," but "I am with pet...again." 

8. Learning that Daisy is doing amazing. As reports would have it, my sneaky bread and butter-loving dog who before I left on this trip was hospitalized for eating one whole pound of Crisco, and who can open child-locks and twist tops and any cabinet in front of her, has apparently not eaten anything other than her regular food since I left. I am in utter shock over this fact. Makes me almost worry she doesn't miss me at all, since she's not acting out....but truly, I am SO pleased to hear she has been behaving herself and is doing well with my family back home on the farm. I miss her more than words can tell. 

9. Talking to my boyfriend each night. I can consider this one act to be the primary factor in my sanity over these few weeks. Being away from home in a big city with a new job has left me on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, and even from afar, it's as if he's sitting beside me, not screaming or laughing, but looking only at me, ever steady,  holding my hand and promising me everything will be okay. We watch television together on the phone and he listens to me ramble on and on about little details from work. He wakes in the middle of the night to my messages when I have a bad dream to soothe me back to sleep. I think I'd forgotten a bit how truly blessed I am until I was away and desperately needed his comfort. I absolutely love that man to pieces. 

10. The beautiful churches. One thing I will give Pittsburgh, even though they are dirty and crowded and strange as all cities are to me, they have some stunningly gorgeous architecture, most exuberantly shown in their churches and temples. It seems that every corner I turn, my eyes can light upon some glorious feat of design, and I am thankful for it.