BIRD IS THE WORD
Promiscuous penguins terrified of water, harried harrier hawks, clumsy kereru¯ and greedy kea owe their lives to the growing cavalry of everyday Kiwis who are helping rehabilitate our injured wildlife writes Vicki Anderson.
‘‘If these people saw them in a rural setting, which is where they are meant to be seen, they would have a greater understanding of them.
‘‘They don’t attack unless protecting their nests, which in the country you can give a wide berth. They are clever, brilliant birds, real characters but people don’t like them because they’re not natives.’’
Often magpies that have been hit by cars are left for dead. ‘‘People just drive off because they think ‘oh, it’s just a magpie’. Magpies are just as clever as parrots.’’
Working with magpies for ‘‘35 years’’ has taught her they can repeat words or phrases and sing songs. ‘‘They can hear a piece of music and play it back to you but as they have heard it, so it is not the same as the song but their interpretation of it.
‘‘When a stranger comes on to my farm the magpies let me know by making an alarm sound . . . I call them my guard birds.’’
However, motorists are likely to stop and help a hawk if they hit one with a car, say Scott and Tracey Bowman of Oxford Bird Rescue, which specialises in caring for raptors – harrier hawks and little owls.
One little owl, Oscar, which is blind, is a popular visitor at Christchurch rest homes and primary schools.
Bowman got involved in bird rehab after hitting a hawk with his car. ‘‘I found a bird rescue place, took an interest in its recovery and realised I could start doing it too.’’
The couple’s interest escalated until he and Tracey were caring for so many birds a year ago in their home shelter that it began to take a toll on their health.
A Massey University survey last year looked at compassion fatigue – exhaustion from prolonged exposure to the stresses of caring for sick and vulnerable wildlife – among New Zealand wildlife rehabilitators.
It found most were able to keep a healthy balance, despite the pressures of the role, but this wasn’t the case for the Bowmans.
‘‘Because we are doing this around our 9-5 jobs and it is in our home, we took on too much, but now we have scaled it back to primarily concentrating on raptors to make it more manageable so we can keep going,’’ says Bowman.
‘‘Bird rescue is a lot of work and a big commitment but it is all worth it when you watch that effort result in a wild bird flying free, back where it belongs.’’
There are animal and bird hospitals, penguin rehabilitation groups and bird rescuers – both individuals and charitable groups – spread nationwide.
The kereru¯ may have taken out Bird of the Year honours for 2018, but the distinctive-coloured New Zealand pigeon is easily our most accident-prone bird.
Dunedin-based Nik Hurring of Project Kereru¯ spends a lot of spare time ‘‘drying out’’ kereru¯ which ‘‘sometimes defy the laws of physics’’ with their clumsy antics.
‘‘Occasionally they need a little drying out after eating too much fruit – it can ferment inside them before it gets a chance to be digested . . . and lessons in how to build nests that do not resemble pick-up sticks would not go astray,’’ she says.
‘‘But all joking aside, it is an absolute privilege to care for ‘green fiends’ on a daily basis.’’
Hurring’s wildlife journey started by accident 26 years ago.
‘‘All I wanted to do when I left school was to become a veterinary nurse, and I was lucky enough to do that at 16.
‘‘My employer at the time was the honorary vet for Department of Conservation in Otago. It opened my eyes a lot, I saw birds that I had no idea even existed before then . . I quickly realised too that our wildlife needed help when it was sick and injured and began bringing my ‘work’ home with me.’’ Project Kereru¯ is now 21.
‘‘I work mostly with kereru¯ because there were just so many of them needing help and, like many others who work with wildlife, I do it completely voluntarily. Project Kereru¯ gets no direct funding.’’
Hurring says the opening of the ‘‘desperately needed’’ Wildlife Hospital in Dunedin in January has been a real boost.
‘‘Before that opened, the kereru¯ were all brought straight to me usually, and there was a limit on what could be done . . . The kereru¯ go back to where they come from when they are ready for freedom again.’’
It is not always possible but it’s great to save a tiny life.
‘‘Every successful release is special and something that I never ever tire of. In a sense, I think you feel some of their freedom too.’’
Others, like Karen Saunders, have more personal reasons for getting involved. ‘‘I had a daughter . . . I had to turn off her life support, sadly. It was pretty awful,’’ she says.
‘‘What happened was it was the middle of the night, I took her out into the hospital gardens to pass away in my arms after I turned the life support off. The birds went crazy in the middle of the night . . . the birdsong was so loud it woke up a whole wing of the hospital.’’
The moving moment sparked an interest in how birds relate to us culturally. ‘‘In every culture birds are mentioned with the spirit world.’’
It also prompted her to take a one-day course in ‘‘Bird Rescue 101’’, where she learned more about the hygiene and medical side of bird rehab.
She founded Waiheke Native Bird Rescue and takes in native birds, with the exception of any game birds such as pukekos or ducks.
‘‘In my travels around the world I’ve volunteered at wildlife centres, I’ve always had an interest. It’s awesome but you never get a day off. Day in, day out, it’s a lot of cleaning,’’ she says. ‘‘A lot of bird rehabbers get burnt out, you have to limit yourself.’’
Some birds are sweet-natured and ‘‘love a cuddle’’, others are grumpy, aggressive beasts with wings. Each one is precious and Saunders loves caring for them.
‘‘From that last moment with my daughter . . . I think I’ll always have a connection to birds.’’