Monday was my first day as a volunteer at the Greenwood Wildlife animal rehibilitaion center. A couple of weeks ago, my friend Liz and I coincidentally both ended up going to the volunteer orientation at the same place, and therefore decided that we would do the same shift and carpool each week. Aside from being warned at the orientation multiple times about how gross (for lack of a more eloquent term) wild animals can be, I still somehow thought that I would not be phased when I actually began volunteering there. As you will see in the upcoming paragraphs I was in for a lovely treat...(that is sarcasm, for all of you who have trouble detecting it in text form).
In one day, I was peed on in addition to touching blankets soaked with pee from three different species, was attacked by pigeons, hissed at by raccoons, growled at by foxes and fed animals a better diet than most people eat. Don't get me wrong, I was not deterred forever from that place and still feel it's worthwhile work, but I just wish that the darn animals would appreciate what us potentially insane volunteers do for them. Upon our arrival, Liz and I spent some time filling out some paperwork, got our name tags, and then were instantly introduced to the world of wildlife rehibilitaion that made my stomach tie itself in knots multiple times. We were first led into the baby squirrel room; a cute room in which some very non-cute things occur. We were first warned about all the ways that one wrong move on our part when it comes to feeding them, like holding the syringe in the wrong position, would instantly kill them. No pressure. Then we were told about how since we were new, we could help to "stem" the babies. My mind could not even try to wrap itself around the term, and sparing you from the details of the procedure which basically covers your hands in baby squirrel pee, I will just say that it has to do with getting them to um...do their business into the garbage. Gross.
Liz and I were then separated and I went with a different employee to clean bird cages because I wrongly assumed that it would result in my being less covered by animal waste. Why I thought that, in retrospect, makes no sense to me. However, the worst part about the bird room was not the removal of the soaked paper towels from their cages but the reactions of the pigeons and doves as a strange arm invaded their space to do so. I was pecked at incessantly and these birds made noises that I did not know that lovely things like doves were capable of making. When I asked the lady showing me the ropes if it was really such a good idea that I clean their cages while they were still in them as one essentially was digging his beak into my flesh, she flashed me a smile and said "eh, it doesn't hurt that bad". I assure you, it did. Maybe she was used to it at that point in her bird healing career.
After cleaning the cages of say, 8 or 9 angry birds (much angrier than the ones in the popular smart phone game), I fed the bunnies and the muskrat who were thankfully not in attack mode which was extremely welcome after the morning that I had had. When Liz and I were reunited, we got to watch a raccoon with a rather Hulk-esque temper be given fluids because of his dehydrated state. I have never been so afraid to be in the same room with another creature, and had issues placing my trust in the handler who did not seem to be a match for the raccoon's rage. It almost matched that of the ire in the eyes of the fox who we fed later on that day.
Well, at least the animals are cute.
You have no idea what this guy is capable of...
In one day, I was peed on in addition to touching blankets soaked with pee from three different species, was attacked by pigeons, hissed at by raccoons, growled at by foxes and fed animals a better diet than most people eat. Don't get me wrong, I was not deterred forever from that place and still feel it's worthwhile work, but I just wish that the darn animals would appreciate what us potentially insane volunteers do for them. Upon our arrival, Liz and I spent some time filling out some paperwork, got our name tags, and then were instantly introduced to the world of wildlife rehibilitaion that made my stomach tie itself in knots multiple times. We were first led into the baby squirrel room; a cute room in which some very non-cute things occur. We were first warned about all the ways that one wrong move on our part when it comes to feeding them, like holding the syringe in the wrong position, would instantly kill them. No pressure. Then we were told about how since we were new, we could help to "stem" the babies. My mind could not even try to wrap itself around the term, and sparing you from the details of the procedure which basically covers your hands in baby squirrel pee, I will just say that it has to do with getting them to um...do their business into the garbage. Gross.
Liz and I were then separated and I went with a different employee to clean bird cages because I wrongly assumed that it would result in my being less covered by animal waste. Why I thought that, in retrospect, makes no sense to me. However, the worst part about the bird room was not the removal of the soaked paper towels from their cages but the reactions of the pigeons and doves as a strange arm invaded their space to do so. I was pecked at incessantly and these birds made noises that I did not know that lovely things like doves were capable of making. When I asked the lady showing me the ropes if it was really such a good idea that I clean their cages while they were still in them as one essentially was digging his beak into my flesh, she flashed me a smile and said "eh, it doesn't hurt that bad". I assure you, it did. Maybe she was used to it at that point in her bird healing career.
After cleaning the cages of say, 8 or 9 angry birds (much angrier than the ones in the popular smart phone game), I fed the bunnies and the muskrat who were thankfully not in attack mode which was extremely welcome after the morning that I had had. When Liz and I were reunited, we got to watch a raccoon with a rather Hulk-esque temper be given fluids because of his dehydrated state. I have never been so afraid to be in the same room with another creature, and had issues placing my trust in the handler who did not seem to be a match for the raccoon's rage. It almost matched that of the ire in the eyes of the fox who we fed later on that day.
Well, at least the animals are cute.
You have no idea what this guy is capable of...
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