FIELD NOTES
Kiawah Island Golf Resort Naturalists
- a male surf scoter. Now, at least, he had a name. I read,
“Voice: usually silent.” Right. “Habitat: ocean surf, salt
bays; in summer, fresh Arctic lakes, tundra.” Arctic tundra?
This little guy has a long, long flight to make from coastal
South Carolina.
But first he would have to mend. All of the vets
nearby were gone for the day. Finally, an emergency animal
clinic in North Charleston agreed to see a wild surf scoter.
So, we packed him in our car and drove 45 minutes into
the night, into the land of ailing poodles and spaniels and
Siamese cats.
Two days later, when I called Holly, the wildlife
rehabilitator who had taken him home, she was guardedly
optimistic. He was dehydrated, dangerously thin, and weak.
They weren’t sure why. He had been given fluids and an
antibiotic and was beginning to eat. His wings were okay nothing broken - but he still didn’t have full use of his legs.
Time would tell.
Three weeks later, Holly told me he had died. By
this time, Charleston area wildlife rehabilitators had taken
in three surf scoters, all found on the beach, all with similar
symptoms. They were thought to be migration fatalities.
At the outset of each long journey, weaker birds try to keep
up until they can fly no longer. Left behind, they languish,
unable to feed, and eventually, too weak to paddle, they
float to shore, where the tide leaves them on the sand, like
seaweed or coral or a conch shell, glistening in the sun.
Now, looking back, I wonder. Should I have left
my duck on the beach, after all? True, Holly and the other
wildlife rehabilitators learned from treating the surf scoters.
Next year, they might have better success with their downy
patients. Patterns might begin to emerge. But how do you
weigh the value of scientific evidence against the pain
of protracted suffering? There are those, too, who would
argue that the survival of one individual surf scoter, unlike
a whooping crane or loggerhead sea turtle, makes little
difference in the larger scheme of things. Would it not have
been better to have let nature take her course, rather than
trying to intervene? Don’t bobcats and hawks deserve their
meal, too?
What is it in me that would not, even now, could
not, leave a bird to die undisturbed by the sea? n
Kiawah’s naturalists are at the front lines of
the mixed emotions about injured or sick wildlife. On
the one hand, it is our love, respect, and compassion
for wildlife that draws us to this career field in the first
place. Most of us can tell stories about the animals we
have taken home to care for, from box turtles struck by
cars to baby squirrels knocked out of their nest when
their tree was cut down. Regrettably, we have also
seen the dark side of humanity’s good intentions, baby
loggerheads brought in off the beach, fledgling birds
taken from their parents and otherwise healthy young
animals dying of malnutrition from a diet of cat food.
Death is a fundamental and natural part of the
complex interactions of Kiawah wildlife. A sick animal
may have a genetic defect that, if it is nurtured back
to survival, will only make the next generation weak.
An injured fawn might be a life saver for a bobcat,
providing the one big meal that allows it to survive a
rough season. Sometimes the animal is dying from
human-related causes, hit by a car or starving as habitat
and food are lost to development or pollution.
We ought to feel distressed when we see an
animal suffering as a result of our actions. It seems
like it is our responsibility to step in and fix it. Yet no
matter how much plastic we pull from the stomach of
sea turtles, or how many stunned warblers we save from
the foot of a bright skyscraper smack in the middle of
a nocturnal migration path, the underlying problems
remain. We can spend vast amounts of money and time
trying to rehabilitate individual wildlife, but more will
continue to die from human causes unless we discover
and prevent the harm from occurring in the first place.
Wildlife rehabilitation is important for educating the
public and saving individuals from species with low or
endangered populations, but more lives may be saved by
using our limited resources to encourage conservation,
reduce pollution and increase education. If we want to
preserve the species as well as the individual, we must
remember to take a step back and draw upon those
strong feelings of compassion to give us motivation
to tackle the challenges faced by our remarkable wild
neighbors. n
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