If my job at WERC was a television show

You know how when you were a kid, your frazzled mom hollered for
you and your sibling to stop behaving like a couple of wildcats?
Been there, done that … and still doing it. I’m talking about
REAL wildcats this time. I’ve transformed myself and become a
feline

mommy

– suiting up in a full-body costume, de-odorizing with bobcat
urine and placing a big, furry bobcat mask on my head.
Extreme Makeover: You know how when you were a kid, your frazzled mom hollered for you and your sibling to stop behaving like a couple of wildcats? Been there, done that … and still doing it. I’m talking about REAL wildcats this time.

I’ve transformed myself and become a feline “mommy” – suiting up in a full-body costume, de-odorizing with bobcat urine and placing a big, furry bobcat mask on my head. I’ve bottle-fed young kittens, much as I did for my own two babies years (and years) ago. I spend quality time playing favorite bobcat games like “chase-the-mouse” and “attack the twig” that help train the bobcat to hunt prey in the wild. The kittens I’m holding in the photo are just two of the 25 I’ve helped “mother” in the past six years. Who would have thought a change-of-life could involve changing species?

Are You Smarter Than A Fifth-Grader?

When I began working at WERC in 2003, I was amazed at how ignorant I was about local wildlife. From watching Animal Planet, I could tell you all about meerkats, elephants and black mambas. But my idea of a turkey vulture was the cartoon Bucky Buzzard circling dehydrated hikers in the desert. Way back in the olden days when I was in fifth grade, there were no wildlife school programs, like WERC’s “Feather, Fur, and Scales.” But I’m making up for it. I’m constantly learning new things on the job. I receive an outstanding continuing education in wildlife health care from Sue Howell and by attending rehabilitation symposiums. On my own time, taking Jane Haley’s bird walks teaches me not to see generic “ducks” in the pond, but to identify them as buffleheads or goldeneyes, for example.

Weird, True and Freaky

A blackbird nest that had fallen out of a tree had three nestlings inside. Soon, it became apparent that one of the babies was noticeably different – did you know a mother brown-headed cowbird is “parasitic” and lays her eggs in the nests of other birds? Then there was the little bird that got caught in last month’s big storm and was brought to WERC. What a shock to hear it growl and to see its small beak suddenly gape into a humongous mouth. It was a rarely seen, nocturnal common poorwill, which uses its big mouth to catch insects flying by at night. At WERC, we get some unusual animals and some freaky goings-on – like the badger found meandering down a school hall and the wild kingsnake that captured and ate a big rattler right in the middle of the center’s driveway.

Iron Chef

Soon after joining WERC, I discovered that having a cast-iron stomach is almost a prerequisite for the job. The animals are prepared delicious meals worthy of Top (Animal) Chef, appropriate for each species and age. To mimic what mama feeds her baby, we whip up tasty servings of meal worms with nutrients for the songbirds, while nestling raptors are hand-fed small, juicy rodents. Other ingredients in WERC’s kitchen: Smelt, quail, fruit, berries, seeds, millet, nuts, dried crickets and large rodents.

Dirty Jobs

This is the corollary of Iron Chef, i.e., what goes in, comes out. Normally, this entails daily picking up raptor castings (inedible rodent parts) coughed up by the raptors, scrubbing off wall splatters and rinsing out droppings from water bowls, but sometimes it means washing falcon feces out of my hair, possum poop off my shirt and vulture vomit from my shoes.

Meet the Press

Medicating a hissing, 5-foot long gopher snake? No problem. Clipping the massive talons of golden eagle, Orion? Part of the job. But speaking in front of an audience? Oh, the heart palpitations! But after months of encouragement, practicing and night sweats, I faced my greatest fear, speaking at a national convention about bobcat rehabilitation. The experience allowed me to face a television news camera without my tongue being tied … almost. I’m still a work-in-progress.

Heroes

These are the people who make the WERC possible: Sue Howell, the devoted director who has been our local wildlife’s best friend for more than 30 years; dedicated volunteers who feed the animals, clean up after them, tend to injuries, become surrogate bobcat moms, build enclosures and participate in public events; the veterinarians who donate their expertise and time in the care and treatment of many of WERC’s rehabilitation and educational animals; and our generous supporters. WERC is a team effort, and I’m proud and thankful for the opportunity to be a part of that team.

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