As I write these words, it has been ten days since I left southeastern Ohio for my home in Auburn. Already I have missed so much. One of my best friends first born child entered the world as I crossed the Tennessee line headed south. My cabin in the woods was difficult to leave for many reasons.
This summer has increased my skills and knowledge so much. If I went into this internship with any doubts, they have all be wiped away. Conservation medicine has developed from a curiosity to a passion.
If all goes well, I hope to return for another summer of research work with the eastern hellbender salamander. Our last day in the field was a triumphant double digit capture day. We went into the stream with a goal of finding eight salamanders. This seemed outlandish to me since our previous two surveys netted three captures. Not only did we find ten of these endangered salamanders, but we found the largest female that I have ever personally seen. Her head was as wide as my palm and she was twenty three inches from nose to tail.
I wish I could make this longer and more thorough but my life has shifted into another gear. I am currently in the midst of the dreaded "Second Year". It just so happens that some of my classes are starting right where my independent study this summer was leading me. I have also learned that our wildlife caseload is apparently going up as we have a had a baby giraffe and baby tiger treated by the staff at Auburn. I know what you are thinking, but I still will not put any pictures in my blog.
HIGHLIGHT: It was a magical journey and thank you for sharing it with me.
LOWLIGHT: Next summer seem so far away....
Monday, August 26, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Days 31-35: Sticks and Stones
Sticks and stones and mud and leaves
All look like turtles to me
Searching underwater in a pond
For painted turtles of which I am fond
Could have been a turtle shellJust another rock, oh well
Poke up their head, then swim awayThis is the story of each day
For a week without a capture
Feels like the opposite of rapture
Basking on a log in the sun
I approach, turtles run
They wait until I'm chest deep
Sliding down a bank too steep
Swim away when I come towardA wet t-shirt my only reward.
That sums up the week that I have had in the field. It was pretty much one long low light of a week with regard to my turtle study.
Highlights: We had another "kids camp" this week for High School kids interested in Veterinary Medicine. I was asked to help with the darting lab which was awesome. I got to fire all the different types of dart guns used here at the wilds. With the scoped rifle I put a nice tight pattern on the target which included a bullseye.
All look like turtles to me
Searching underwater in a pond
For painted turtles of which I am fond
Could have been a turtle shellJust another rock, oh well
Poke up their head, then swim awayThis is the story of each day
For a week without a capture
Feels like the opposite of rapture
Basking on a log in the sun
I approach, turtles run
They wait until I'm chest deep
Sliding down a bank too steep
Swim away when I come towardA wet t-shirt my only reward.
That sums up the week that I have had in the field. It was pretty much one long low light of a week with regard to my turtle study.
Highlights: We had another "kids camp" this week for High School kids interested in Veterinary Medicine. I was asked to help with the darting lab which was awesome. I got to fire all the different types of dart guns used here at the wilds. With the scoped rifle I put a nice tight pattern on the target which included a bullseye.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Day 31: When It Rains
Dreary drizzle awaited me as I left my cabin this morning. A quick check of the weather channel app on my phone let me know to expect more of the same for the rest of the day. If only I were going to play baseball, the game would have been called, kaput, rained out. Instead, I was going to do pond surveys. In this game, the only thing that cancels work is lighting. No storms of that nature were predicted until after lunch.
Our team marched out to the first site of the day. It was a shallow looking pond, with no signs of turtles at all. After deciding that a turtle search would be fruitless at this pond, we hiked to the second site of the day. This was a nearby pond which was added to our survey so our main objective was simply to locate the pond.
Leaving a trail of broken branches and upset spiders in our wake, we came to the shoreline of our new pond. After a brief pause for observations, I set about entering the water to survey this huge lake. Four short steps along the shoreline and I found myself chest deep in the water and sinking slowly.
Looking out across the lake, I saw a clear path on the far shore. Four wheel drive tire treads running parallel up a green carpeted hillside. We decided that finding that path would allow for a better survey. I exited the water and we were on our way to the next site.
The sky doubled its rain production shortly after a green frog found her way into Chelsea's net at our third site. By the time she finished writing all the stats on the page, it was soaked through. We released the frog and raced back to the truck.
Highlight: I guess the highlight of today would be learning that I will be helping out with the new kid's camp this week. It is a "Vet Camp". I can't hardly wait to return to the animal hospital even if the price of admission is dealing with preteens.
Lowlight: Rainy days are terrible for finding turtles. From this point forward, I will only be working on a Major League Baseball type schedule. Might as well roll tarps over the ponds while we wait out the storm from the comfort of a plush locker room.
Our team marched out to the first site of the day. It was a shallow looking pond, with no signs of turtles at all. After deciding that a turtle search would be fruitless at this pond, we hiked to the second site of the day. This was a nearby pond which was added to our survey so our main objective was simply to locate the pond.
Leaving a trail of broken branches and upset spiders in our wake, we came to the shoreline of our new pond. After a brief pause for observations, I set about entering the water to survey this huge lake. Four short steps along the shoreline and I found myself chest deep in the water and sinking slowly.
Looking out across the lake, I saw a clear path on the far shore. Four wheel drive tire treads running parallel up a green carpeted hillside. We decided that finding that path would allow for a better survey. I exited the water and we were on our way to the next site.
The sky doubled its rain production shortly after a green frog found her way into Chelsea's net at our third site. By the time she finished writing all the stats on the page, it was soaked through. We released the frog and raced back to the truck.
Highlight: I guess the highlight of today would be learning that I will be helping out with the new kid's camp this week. It is a "Vet Camp". I can't hardly wait to return to the animal hospital even if the price of admission is dealing with preteens.
Lowlight: Rainy days are terrible for finding turtles. From this point forward, I will only be working on a Major League Baseball type schedule. Might as well roll tarps over the ponds while we wait out the storm from the comfort of a plush locker room.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Days 26-30: Kid's Week
Our education camp, "Wildecamp", was host to a group of twelve year old children. As part of our internship, we were asked to take out a group of ten kids to a survey site each day this week. During that time, we would take them into a lake to demonstrate what we do each day.
Our group of turtle researchers selected a site which had previously yielded four turtle captures and numerous sitings. It was a short hike to the lake. The water was shallow and clear. The perfect set up for the kids to have the best chance finding turtles in the wild.
Turns out the site was too good to be true. Not only did we not see any turtles with any of the groups, we did not see any of the wildlife for which we survey. Maybe it was the fact the twelve year old kids think anything short of yelling at each other is "being quite". Maybe it was the heat driving the turtles deeper into the water. Your guess is as good as mine.
When we survey the lake sites, our whole team shows up with appropriate gear. Long pants with boots or Chest Waders are our daily uniform. The children arrived in shorts and water shoes. It was so hot that I did not think that it made much of a difference.
My assumption was wrong. Chest waders preclude me from all the things that bare skin might attract in a lake. Within 15 minutes of our first lake survey one of the boys had a leaf on his leg. When I looked down, I knew immediately that was no leaf. A simple touch confirmed that one of the youngsters who was under my care was now the host to a leech. We find them on turtles all the time but I never considered that a human would be just as attractive.
I calmly reached down with my bare hands to remove the leech. No luck. The leech had already began to draw blood and slipped between my moistened fingers. Thankfully I had restocked my latex glove supply before heading out that morning. The gloved fingers were able to remove the leech with a firm tug. After removal, that boy decided to stay on the shore with another camper and a councilor who did not venture out into the water. My remaining campers all soldiered on to complete the survey.
When arriving back to the parking area, one camper had a much more engorged leech attached just above his ankle. As we were preparing to remove the leech, he looked at me through his thin rimmed prescription glasses...
"Is this going to hurt?"
"I don't know, I have never pulled a leech off myself."
"Is it alright if I swear when you pull it off?"
"Sure thing boss, just don't start crying on me."
...For the record, I'm told that it does not hurt. I let him keep the leech as a souvenir.
Word spread quickly about the pond being filled with leeches and the next group of boys were quite polarized. Some stayed on the shore with a councilor. The majority decided that having a leech on them was a preteen badge of honor. Giving instructions on how to avoid leeches was more like giving them instructions on how to FIND the leeches. When they emerged from the lake, each one of them had bloody circles dotting their calfs and ankles. The lucky few boasted engorged leeches on their legs.
One boy was so attached to his new external parasites that he named them. The first leech he found was dubbed "Steve", the second was known as "Ozzy Osbourn". He refused removal and boarded the bus with leeches still attached. I was later told by another councilor that he put up quite a fight before Steve and Ozzy were finally deposited into alcohol for disposal.
Highlight: Three out of the Four groups told us that our survey was the best. Even though we didn't find any turtles, the kids still enjoyed seeing the tadpoles, beetles, dragonflies, damselflies and of course the leeches. I let a brave group of girls wade out into the water to check one of our empty turtle traps. They ended up shoulder deep in the water, sinking into mud holes and were thrilled about every step.
Lowlight: As previously stated, the groups were split between boys and girls. Several of the boys were not willing to get into the water with us for the survey. EVERY SINGLE GIRL GOT INTO THE WATER! Even after knowing that there were leeches in the pond! When the final group, all girls, finished the survey, I informed them that the girls were the only ones with 100% participation in our survey. They all replied, "Girls Rule, Boys Drool!" After this week, I was forced to agree...
Our group of turtle researchers selected a site which had previously yielded four turtle captures and numerous sitings. It was a short hike to the lake. The water was shallow and clear. The perfect set up for the kids to have the best chance finding turtles in the wild.
Turns out the site was too good to be true. Not only did we not see any turtles with any of the groups, we did not see any of the wildlife for which we survey. Maybe it was the fact the twelve year old kids think anything short of yelling at each other is "being quite". Maybe it was the heat driving the turtles deeper into the water. Your guess is as good as mine.
When we survey the lake sites, our whole team shows up with appropriate gear. Long pants with boots or Chest Waders are our daily uniform. The children arrived in shorts and water shoes. It was so hot that I did not think that it made much of a difference.
My assumption was wrong. Chest waders preclude me from all the things that bare skin might attract in a lake. Within 15 minutes of our first lake survey one of the boys had a leaf on his leg. When I looked down, I knew immediately that was no leaf. A simple touch confirmed that one of the youngsters who was under my care was now the host to a leech. We find them on turtles all the time but I never considered that a human would be just as attractive.
I calmly reached down with my bare hands to remove the leech. No luck. The leech had already began to draw blood and slipped between my moistened fingers. Thankfully I had restocked my latex glove supply before heading out that morning. The gloved fingers were able to remove the leech with a firm tug. After removal, that boy decided to stay on the shore with another camper and a councilor who did not venture out into the water. My remaining campers all soldiered on to complete the survey.
When arriving back to the parking area, one camper had a much more engorged leech attached just above his ankle. As we were preparing to remove the leech, he looked at me through his thin rimmed prescription glasses...
"Is this going to hurt?"
"I don't know, I have never pulled a leech off myself."
"Is it alright if I swear when you pull it off?"
"Sure thing boss, just don't start crying on me."
...For the record, I'm told that it does not hurt. I let him keep the leech as a souvenir.
Word spread quickly about the pond being filled with leeches and the next group of boys were quite polarized. Some stayed on the shore with a councilor. The majority decided that having a leech on them was a preteen badge of honor. Giving instructions on how to avoid leeches was more like giving them instructions on how to FIND the leeches. When they emerged from the lake, each one of them had bloody circles dotting their calfs and ankles. The lucky few boasted engorged leeches on their legs.
One boy was so attached to his new external parasites that he named them. The first leech he found was dubbed "Steve", the second was known as "Ozzy Osbourn". He refused removal and boarded the bus with leeches still attached. I was later told by another councilor that he put up quite a fight before Steve and Ozzy were finally deposited into alcohol for disposal.
Highlight: Three out of the Four groups told us that our survey was the best. Even though we didn't find any turtles, the kids still enjoyed seeing the tadpoles, beetles, dragonflies, damselflies and of course the leeches. I let a brave group of girls wade out into the water to check one of our empty turtle traps. They ended up shoulder deep in the water, sinking into mud holes and were thrilled about every step.
Lowlight: As previously stated, the groups were split between boys and girls. Several of the boys were not willing to get into the water with us for the survey. EVERY SINGLE GIRL GOT INTO THE WATER! Even after knowing that there were leeches in the pond! When the final group, all girls, finished the survey, I informed them that the girls were the only ones with 100% participation in our survey. They all replied, "Girls Rule, Boys Drool!" After this week, I was forced to agree...
Day 25: Borex the Broken
In a previous post I detailed the P. Horse, named Borex, who had broken his leg dancing with a fence. This morning, Borex was scheduled for surgery. Thankfully I was going to get witness this procedure. A specialist from tOSU was driving in from Columbus for the procedure.
Shortly after my arrival, the specialist parked outside of the clinic. She entered the glass doors of the clinic with her team in tow. Each member of her three person team carrying a blue tub brimming with medical supplies. Bandages, wraps and surgery packs peaked over the edges.
The Specialist reminded me of a composite of several female authority figures I have known in my life. Her hair and voice reminded me of my Sunday School Principal. She said things to her staff like "Whatevski" and "Val, let's get going here. Preppy preppy preppy" to indicate she was in a hurry to get the procedure started. The physical presence was that of my elementary school gym teacher, demanding the respect of her young charges.
Once the anesthesia took hold and the x-rays had been exposed, The Specialist devised the plan. Her Resident, whom she named 'The Pride of Bali', began by gathering a bone graft from the hip bone opposite the bad leg. The process reminded me of gathering the hard to reach ice cream from the corners of the carton. Perhaps because the tool used was similar to a mini ice cream scoop.
After a sufficient amount of bone material was obtained, it was time to move to the broken leg. At this point, The Specialist was ready to enter the surgery. She skillfully directed her team while her experienced fingers probed Borex's wound. In a few minutes, she had removed the proximal sesamoid bone.
Placement of the bone graft by The Specialist was followed by packing antibiotic beads into all the nooks and crannies around the wound. The whole thing was wrapped up tight and phase two of the treatment plan began. It was time for the insertion of the pins.
I have never seen pins being drilled into a bone before today. I was surprised when The Pride of Bali pulled out a sterilized DeWalt drill. The battery could not be sterilized so it was wrapped in latex gloves with a towel on the outside. In short order two long pins were inserted into the radial bone of Borex.
Highlight: During the casting of Borex's leg, one of the Zoo Keepers inquired about the difference in casting wrap size in each of the three layers. The Specialist's Vet Tech quickly answered, "We do it that way because that is how Big Momma likes it". When the laughter died down, The Specialist enlightened us to the real reason. When casting a limb, a smaller width wrap is used closer to the skin to allow smooth coverage of the contours. With each layer further outward, the width of the wrap is increased to provide better support for the limb.
Lowlight: What Lowlight? I got to spend the day in the clinic!
Shortly after my arrival, the specialist parked outside of the clinic. She entered the glass doors of the clinic with her team in tow. Each member of her three person team carrying a blue tub brimming with medical supplies. Bandages, wraps and surgery packs peaked over the edges.
The Specialist reminded me of a composite of several female authority figures I have known in my life. Her hair and voice reminded me of my Sunday School Principal. She said things to her staff like "Whatevski" and "Val, let's get going here. Preppy preppy preppy" to indicate she was in a hurry to get the procedure started. The physical presence was that of my elementary school gym teacher, demanding the respect of her young charges.
Once the anesthesia took hold and the x-rays had been exposed, The Specialist devised the plan. Her Resident, whom she named 'The Pride of Bali', began by gathering a bone graft from the hip bone opposite the bad leg. The process reminded me of gathering the hard to reach ice cream from the corners of the carton. Perhaps because the tool used was similar to a mini ice cream scoop.
After a sufficient amount of bone material was obtained, it was time to move to the broken leg. At this point, The Specialist was ready to enter the surgery. She skillfully directed her team while her experienced fingers probed Borex's wound. In a few minutes, she had removed the proximal sesamoid bone.
Placement of the bone graft by The Specialist was followed by packing antibiotic beads into all the nooks and crannies around the wound. The whole thing was wrapped up tight and phase two of the treatment plan began. It was time for the insertion of the pins.
I have never seen pins being drilled into a bone before today. I was surprised when The Pride of Bali pulled out a sterilized DeWalt drill. The battery could not be sterilized so it was wrapped in latex gloves with a towel on the outside. In short order two long pins were inserted into the radial bone of Borex.
Highlight: During the casting of Borex's leg, one of the Zoo Keepers inquired about the difference in casting wrap size in each of the three layers. The Specialist's Vet Tech quickly answered, "We do it that way because that is how Big Momma likes it". When the laughter died down, The Specialist enlightened us to the real reason. When casting a limb, a smaller width wrap is used closer to the skin to allow smooth coverage of the contours. With each layer further outward, the width of the wrap is increased to provide better support for the limb.
Lowlight: What Lowlight? I got to spend the day in the clinic!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Day 24: The Neighbors
I have decided not to regale you with the tales of another day hiking the north. Rather, I am going to tell you about one of the things I will miss the most when this internship has run it's course. My neighbors here are what make this experience an 'A+'.
One of the first neighbors that I met here is a fat groundhog. I have named him 'Whistle Pig'. He hangs around with the Bunnies next door. The lot of them can regularly be found munching on the vegetation surrounding our cabin. I regularly have breakfast with Whistle Pig and the Bunnies.
Further down the shore line, a family of beavers built themselves a nice dam house. The beavers usually swim by but they never stop to chat. Always too busy for small talk. I guess a beaver's work is never done.
The Great Blue Herons live across the pond. Most of the time, we see them just hanging around on the shore line. Watching them take flight is quite impressive, especially when they launch from the water. From time to time, their friends the Geese will show up for dinner. They usually end up leaving with a squak.
Lately when I have been going on my evening run, I am coming across eight to ten turkey vultures. I usually see them late in my run when I am huffing and puffing my way along the last mile. The vultures make a weak attempt to move out of my way when I approach. I tell them, "Not today guys!" as I run past.
One of the first neighbors that I met here is a fat groundhog. I have named him 'Whistle Pig'. He hangs around with the Bunnies next door. The lot of them can regularly be found munching on the vegetation surrounding our cabin. I regularly have breakfast with Whistle Pig and the Bunnies.
Further down the shore line, a family of beavers built themselves a nice dam house. The beavers usually swim by but they never stop to chat. Always too busy for small talk. I guess a beaver's work is never done.
The Great Blue Herons live across the pond. Most of the time, we see them just hanging around on the shore line. Watching them take flight is quite impressive, especially when they launch from the water. From time to time, their friends the Geese will show up for dinner. They usually end up leaving with a squak.
Lately when I have been going on my evening run, I am coming across eight to ten turkey vultures. I usually see them late in my run when I am huffing and puffing my way along the last mile. The vultures make a weak attempt to move out of my way when I approach. I tell them, "Not today guys!" as I run past.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Day 23: Night Time is the Right Time
After another fruitless survey at a northern lake, I sat down to work on my research paper in the Conservation Science Training Center. The chairs are the most comfortable around and it is the perfect place to get down to the business of writing up some science.
As I am getting underway, a fellow vet student comes in a politely pleads with Brian and myself to join her for a night time frog survey. Being the gentlemen that we are, only a moderate amount of bribery was required to enlist our help. It is difficult to resist helping when beer and cookies are the reward.
I borrow a head lamp from one of my cabin mates and load up my chest waders. The night survey of the wetlands is about to begin. I have been told that the night time is the best chance to catch a frog. When the spotlight goes into their eyes you can just pick them right up. I started out the survey hoping this was the truth.
When we reached the parking lot, there was a orgy of frog activity surrounding a nearby puddle. I could not resist the chance despite the frog calls indicating that it was not a species we were in search of currently. Down to my knees, I spotted a frog. I slowly approached on all fours. A quick dive with both hands leading the way and he was all mine.
Highlight: I rose with a tree frog firmly grasped between my palms. He was small compared to the green frogs, but a frog is a frog. Perhaps tree frogs are less evil than other types.
After releasing him, we began our actual survey. The wetlands area that was selected for the night had reeds which grew tall enough to obscure my view. Moonlight obscured the beam sent from my tiny headlamp. I was crouched low with every step scanning the ankle deep waters at the base of the reeds for flashing eyes or green skin.
Lowlight: Being so focused on the reeds directly in front of me, I lost sight of the big picture. This lead me to lose my balance and fall into a channel which was chest deep on me. The sloshing of the water as I regained my balance soaked by shirt but did not fill up my chest waders.
The channel's water level put me in a prospective which would be perfect for the frog search so I decided to stay. While wading slowly upstream, something large moved under my foot. Shortly after something slammed into my leg. Not hard enough to knock me off balance but hard enough to freak me out.
At this point I began writing a mental list of things a person wading chest deep in turbid waters at eleven o'clock at night should not think about...
As I am getting underway, a fellow vet student comes in a politely pleads with Brian and myself to join her for a night time frog survey. Being the gentlemen that we are, only a moderate amount of bribery was required to enlist our help. It is difficult to resist helping when beer and cookies are the reward.
I borrow a head lamp from one of my cabin mates and load up my chest waders. The night survey of the wetlands is about to begin. I have been told that the night time is the best chance to catch a frog. When the spotlight goes into their eyes you can just pick them right up. I started out the survey hoping this was the truth.
When we reached the parking lot, there was a orgy of frog activity surrounding a nearby puddle. I could not resist the chance despite the frog calls indicating that it was not a species we were in search of currently. Down to my knees, I spotted a frog. I slowly approached on all fours. A quick dive with both hands leading the way and he was all mine.
Highlight: I rose with a tree frog firmly grasped between my palms. He was small compared to the green frogs, but a frog is a frog. Perhaps tree frogs are less evil than other types.
After releasing him, we began our actual survey. The wetlands area that was selected for the night had reeds which grew tall enough to obscure my view. Moonlight obscured the beam sent from my tiny headlamp. I was crouched low with every step scanning the ankle deep waters at the base of the reeds for flashing eyes or green skin.
Lowlight: Being so focused on the reeds directly in front of me, I lost sight of the big picture. This lead me to lose my balance and fall into a channel which was chest deep on me. The sloshing of the water as I regained my balance soaked by shirt but did not fill up my chest waders.
The channel's water level put me in a prospective which would be perfect for the frog search so I decided to stay. While wading slowly upstream, something large moved under my foot. Shortly after something slammed into my leg. Not hard enough to knock me off balance but hard enough to freak me out.
At this point I began writing a mental list of things a person wading chest deep in turbid waters at eleven o'clock at night should not think about...
- Alligators like wetlands. Maybe someone released a pet alligator here.
- I saw a snapping turtle bite through a stick. I'm pretty sure that my waders are not as strong as a stick
- Northern Water snakes are "very aggressive" snakes. Do you think they hunt at night?
- Every episode of 'River Monsters' ever made features stories about people doing questionable things in the middle of the night. This seems fairly questionable.
Day 22: Round and Round
Today there was no escaping from the northern survey. I don't recall if I have mentioned this previously but The Wilds is located on reclaimed strip mines. The famous "Big Muskie" bucket would tear through the ground for coal. When there was no more coal to be had, the mobile strip mining factory would simply move to a new part of the property.
When the land was reclaimed in what is now the north property of The Wilds, the laws were different than they are today regarding who the land can be left. Today the land must be returned to its original contours. The north is a landscape of dense deciduous forest coating drastic elevation changes.
The trip to our survey site was some of the most challenging hiking I have ever done. If we found a clear path to walk, it was not clear for very long. We climbed over downed trees, ducked under autumn olive bushes and broke through about a million spiderwebs to finally reach our lake.
After all the travel to reach our hidden lake, it turned out to be quite a let down. I observed a large school of blue gill fish as well as a gigantic large mouth bass. Both turtles and frogs eluded my gaze all morning.
Finishing the survey we began the march back to our truck. The details get a little foggy from this point. Someone tells someone else they are always right. Someone makes a left turn when they should have made a right. Perhaps our GPS unit went on strike at some point.
The only sure thing is that Lake Team spent the next 3 hours hopelessly lost in THICK cover. Climb up one hill, slide down the steep grade on the other side. Thorn bushes mixed seamlessly with chest high grasses to cover the lowlands. No radio service, no easy way out.
Lowlight: Bloody, sweaty, and exhausted, we crept up to a lake. Strangely enough, it looked identical to the lake we had surveyed in the morning. Oh, wait, it WAS the lake that we surveyed in the morning. We had managed to spend three hours traveling in a complete circle.
Highlight: The only highlight of a day like today is when the sun sets, you are able to crawl in to bed and the entire experience becomes a distant memory. Thankfully we only have a few sites left to survey in the dreaded north.
When the land was reclaimed in what is now the north property of The Wilds, the laws were different than they are today regarding who the land can be left. Today the land must be returned to its original contours. The north is a landscape of dense deciduous forest coating drastic elevation changes.
The trip to our survey site was some of the most challenging hiking I have ever done. If we found a clear path to walk, it was not clear for very long. We climbed over downed trees, ducked under autumn olive bushes and broke through about a million spiderwebs to finally reach our lake.
After all the travel to reach our hidden lake, it turned out to be quite a let down. I observed a large school of blue gill fish as well as a gigantic large mouth bass. Both turtles and frogs eluded my gaze all morning.
Finishing the survey we began the march back to our truck. The details get a little foggy from this point. Someone tells someone else they are always right. Someone makes a left turn when they should have made a right. Perhaps our GPS unit went on strike at some point.
The only sure thing is that Lake Team spent the next 3 hours hopelessly lost in THICK cover. Climb up one hill, slide down the steep grade on the other side. Thorn bushes mixed seamlessly with chest high grasses to cover the lowlands. No radio service, no easy way out.
Lowlight: Bloody, sweaty, and exhausted, we crept up to a lake. Strangely enough, it looked identical to the lake we had surveyed in the morning. Oh, wait, it WAS the lake that we surveyed in the morning. We had managed to spend three hours traveling in a complete circle.
Highlight: The only highlight of a day like today is when the sun sets, you are able to crawl in to bed and the entire experience becomes a distant memory. Thankfully we only have a few sites left to survey in the dreaded north.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Day 21: Flo-Jo-A-Go-Go
After a long weekend spent enjoying the freedom of America, primarily with the good people of Weasel Boy Brewing, today was back to work. This morning marked the second foray into the rough terrain of the northern reclamation lands. A place with trails named "High Wall" and "Bumpy Valley" did not sound like the easy hike that a first day back demanded. After hauling our team to the parking area, I received quite a nice compliment.
"Ron, the head vet just radioed. She would like you to come assist with another cheetah procedure this morning. Do you want to go?"
"Oh, I guess if they need me I'll go help." was my humble response.
When I turned to a colleague, she simply rolled her eyes at me while taking my field pack. Lake team spent the rest of day with a challenging two hour hike to a survey site. During that time, I am told they discussed which of them had 'dibs' on future vet observations on the various species which may enter the clinic. I suspect that I was cursed a few times as well.
When I arrived at the clinic I got a quick update on Flo-Jo, the three year old sister of Bolt. Flo-Jo had decided to become anorexic over the holiday weekend. When a top predator being fed a premium carnivore diet stops eating, this is a major cause of concern. After several days of 'hands off' treatments, it was time to give her a full exam.
As per my usual job in these situation, I was responsible for counting heart rate, respiration rate, and taking her temperature. She had regularly irregular heart beat. One beat, pause, and then three quick beats. This is called sinus arrhythmia and not of any real medical concern. Flo-Jo's breathing rate was much stronger than her brothers under anesthesia.
The temperature part of my job occurs at the exit of the gastrointestinal tract. Flo-Jo had left me quite a bit of butterscotch pudding feces to clean up before I was able to take her temperature. Whenever I am faced with fecal matter in the course of my day, the same voice goes through my head. My father often says, "After all the shit you have given me over the years, this is how your are getting repaid!" Then we laugh about it together. I hope I never stop hearing that voice.
While taking Flo-Jo's temperature during the later stages of the exam, I was holding her tail up over my head as I leaned forward from the end of the exam table to read the thermometer. While waiting for the digital read out I heard the head vet say, "She's waking up..."
In my mind I saw flashes of the future: Flo-Jo the cheetah waking up angry to find me not only holding her by the tail, but with a thermometer shoved up her tailpipe. Two quick kicks from her powerful back legs knock me off my feet. She turns to pounce, her freshly cleaned fangs shining in the medical lights
Thankfully the head vet went on to finish the sentence with "..turn her up a little bit." Quite a relief. As Flo-Jo's exam finished up, I was tasked with putting Frontline on her to protect against fleas and ticks. The catch was that I would have to put the Frontline on the back of her neck, while she was in her transportation crate, after the anesthesia was removed.
I gingerly reached into the crate and maneuvered the tube of preventative into place. I looked down into Flo-Jo's eyes. I began to squeeze the tube. She blinked at me. SHE BLINKED! I squeezed harder and quickly removed my hand. "Did you get it all?" asked the head vet. "Oh yes." I confidently responded showing her the tube which I had managed to completely flatten in the process.
Highlight: The Wilds recently received three new Cheetahs for the breeding program. After finishing Flo-Jo's exam, the head vet asked the head cheetah keeper where to find the new arrivals. His response had all the flavor of a high-school lunch table gossip session. "Jabari is TOTALLY CRUSHING on Amber. Wherever you see her, he's going to be right there."
Lowlight: During the procedure, she had a small patch of fur shaved off of her neck to allow for placement of a catheter. Allowing myself to be a tourist for a brief moment, I leaned down and picked up a piece of the fur. I held in my hand an actual cheetah spot. The patch of fur was as soft and fluffy as it was beautiful. I REALLY wanted to keep it as a souvenir but decided that it would just break up in my pocket on the way back to the cabins. After careful contemplation, I placed it into the trash can. Looking back now, I probably should have risked it.
"Ron, the head vet just radioed. She would like you to come assist with another cheetah procedure this morning. Do you want to go?"
"Oh, I guess if they need me I'll go help." was my humble response.
When I turned to a colleague, she simply rolled her eyes at me while taking my field pack. Lake team spent the rest of day with a challenging two hour hike to a survey site. During that time, I am told they discussed which of them had 'dibs' on future vet observations on the various species which may enter the clinic. I suspect that I was cursed a few times as well.
When I arrived at the clinic I got a quick update on Flo-Jo, the three year old sister of Bolt. Flo-Jo had decided to become anorexic over the holiday weekend. When a top predator being fed a premium carnivore diet stops eating, this is a major cause of concern. After several days of 'hands off' treatments, it was time to give her a full exam.
As per my usual job in these situation, I was responsible for counting heart rate, respiration rate, and taking her temperature. She had regularly irregular heart beat. One beat, pause, and then three quick beats. This is called sinus arrhythmia and not of any real medical concern. Flo-Jo's breathing rate was much stronger than her brothers under anesthesia.
The temperature part of my job occurs at the exit of the gastrointestinal tract. Flo-Jo had left me quite a bit of butterscotch pudding feces to clean up before I was able to take her temperature. Whenever I am faced with fecal matter in the course of my day, the same voice goes through my head. My father often says, "After all the shit you have given me over the years, this is how your are getting repaid!" Then we laugh about it together. I hope I never stop hearing that voice.
While taking Flo-Jo's temperature during the later stages of the exam, I was holding her tail up over my head as I leaned forward from the end of the exam table to read the thermometer. While waiting for the digital read out I heard the head vet say, "She's waking up..."
In my mind I saw flashes of the future: Flo-Jo the cheetah waking up angry to find me not only holding her by the tail, but with a thermometer shoved up her tailpipe. Two quick kicks from her powerful back legs knock me off my feet. She turns to pounce, her freshly cleaned fangs shining in the medical lights
Thankfully the head vet went on to finish the sentence with "..turn her up a little bit." Quite a relief. As Flo-Jo's exam finished up, I was tasked with putting Frontline on her to protect against fleas and ticks. The catch was that I would have to put the Frontline on the back of her neck, while she was in her transportation crate, after the anesthesia was removed.
I gingerly reached into the crate and maneuvered the tube of preventative into place. I looked down into Flo-Jo's eyes. I began to squeeze the tube. She blinked at me. SHE BLINKED! I squeezed harder and quickly removed my hand. "Did you get it all?" asked the head vet. "Oh yes." I confidently responded showing her the tube which I had managed to completely flatten in the process.
Highlight: The Wilds recently received three new Cheetahs for the breeding program. After finishing Flo-Jo's exam, the head vet asked the head cheetah keeper where to find the new arrivals. His response had all the flavor of a high-school lunch table gossip session. "Jabari is TOTALLY CRUSHING on Amber. Wherever you see her, he's going to be right there."
Lowlight: During the procedure, she had a small patch of fur shaved off of her neck to allow for placement of a catheter. Allowing myself to be a tourist for a brief moment, I leaned down and picked up a piece of the fur. I held in my hand an actual cheetah spot. The patch of fur was as soft and fluffy as it was beautiful. I REALLY wanted to keep it as a souvenir but decided that it would just break up in my pocket on the way back to the cabins. After careful contemplation, I placed it into the trash can. Looking back now, I probably should have risked it.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Day 18: Przewalski's horse
My routine here is anything but routine. Today I started another survey with Lake Team only to leave early for assistance with a veterinary procedure. Today's patient was a Przewalski's horse, an endangered wild horse whose name sounds nothing like the way it is spelled. We will call him 'P Horse' for the sake of brevity.
When tranquilizing a wild horse who is not happy to see you, you do not skimp on the chemical restraint. The name of the drug used today escapes me but the caution used was not lost. "I'm wearing gloves and goggles because if any of this gets into my system, it will kill me." Katie went on to explain that this drug is like morphine times one thousand. When she went to deliver the dose to the restrained horse, I took a step back and held my breath. One can never be too careful when death is on the line.
The P Horse took it all like a champ. When released from his physical restraint, he walked into the padded room and quietly went to sleep. Once the slumber was confirmed, all hands were on deck to move the great beast into the hospital room where today's exam would take place.
This P Horse had decided to tango with a wire fence a few weeks back. His dance landed him in the hospital due to lacerations and swelling on his lower right leg, When the cast was removed, I got a good look his injuries. I'm not going to paint a vivid picture of what I saw, but trust me when I say this guy regretted kicking that fence.
Lowlight: When taking the heart rate of the P horse, I came up with a ludicrous number for a horse. After it came out of my mouth, I knew the number was way off but I didn't realize what I had done wrong. I made the rookie mistake of double counting the heartbeat. In a large animal hospital setting, I am very much a rookie.
After the treatment wrapped up, it was time to wake up sleepy P horse. This is always the exciting part of any procedure here. It is a delicate balance between delivering the reversal for anethesia and escaping before the animal has a chance to hurt anyone. During the sterilization and recasting of P Horse's leg, he was resting on a large foam pad with a vinyl cover similar to a large couch cushion.
When it was time to wake up, one of the animal care workers was overzealous in grabbing the pad from under the horse. The quick snatch coupled with the weight of the rolling P Horse resulted in the cover ripping and only to foam pad being removed. The vinyl cover ended up draped over the back of a now aggravated and confused P horse. Watching through a peep hole in the recovery room door, I had a front row seat to the unfolding drama.
A brave zookeeper stepped into the "danger zone" behind the horse. A kick from this well muscled stallion would easily shatter bone. The rest of his team stood outside the door with bated breath. He snatched the blue vinyl cover from the P Horses back as the horse turned to take a look at what was going on. While shouting "I'm OK", the zoo keeper made an exit that would have made Snagglepuss proud.
When the zookeeper walked past the windows of the vet hospital surrounded by his smiling pack of peers, we had a moment. My thumbs up said, "Good Job!". His confident nod said, "I know, just another day at the office".
Highlight: I managed to stick around for everyone's favorite endangered neonate's afternoon treatment. Caring for Amy Ray is where I prove my worth. I am happy to do whatever is needed to aid in her recovery.
When approached with a rake by the Head Vet, I replied that I am not above mucking stalls for her. To be truthful, I would do just about anything to come back to the Wilds on a Vet Externship during my fourth year of school. Perhaps even as a Resident Veterinarian in a quest for a Conservation Medicine specialization.
Each day, Amy Ray's treatment schedule gets a little bit shorter. The goal now is to support her until she is eatting on her own. I was tasked with observations after treatment was completed to see if she would eat from the feed buckets when her mother returned to the stall.
Amy Ray does not quite have the hang of this solid food thing yet. She follows her mother in a funny game of 'monkey see, monkey do'. Mom takes a step, Baby takes a step. Mom lowers her head, Baby lowers her head. Mom eats from the food buckets, Baby chews on Mom's ears. So close...
When tranquilizing a wild horse who is not happy to see you, you do not skimp on the chemical restraint. The name of the drug used today escapes me but the caution used was not lost. "I'm wearing gloves and goggles because if any of this gets into my system, it will kill me." Katie went on to explain that this drug is like morphine times one thousand. When she went to deliver the dose to the restrained horse, I took a step back and held my breath. One can never be too careful when death is on the line.
The P Horse took it all like a champ. When released from his physical restraint, he walked into the padded room and quietly went to sleep. Once the slumber was confirmed, all hands were on deck to move the great beast into the hospital room where today's exam would take place.
This P Horse had decided to tango with a wire fence a few weeks back. His dance landed him in the hospital due to lacerations and swelling on his lower right leg, When the cast was removed, I got a good look his injuries. I'm not going to paint a vivid picture of what I saw, but trust me when I say this guy regretted kicking that fence.
Lowlight: When taking the heart rate of the P horse, I came up with a ludicrous number for a horse. After it came out of my mouth, I knew the number was way off but I didn't realize what I had done wrong. I made the rookie mistake of double counting the heartbeat. In a large animal hospital setting, I am very much a rookie.
After the treatment wrapped up, it was time to wake up sleepy P horse. This is always the exciting part of any procedure here. It is a delicate balance between delivering the reversal for anethesia and escaping before the animal has a chance to hurt anyone. During the sterilization and recasting of P Horse's leg, he was resting on a large foam pad with a vinyl cover similar to a large couch cushion.
When it was time to wake up, one of the animal care workers was overzealous in grabbing the pad from under the horse. The quick snatch coupled with the weight of the rolling P Horse resulted in the cover ripping and only to foam pad being removed. The vinyl cover ended up draped over the back of a now aggravated and confused P horse. Watching through a peep hole in the recovery room door, I had a front row seat to the unfolding drama.
A brave zookeeper stepped into the "danger zone" behind the horse. A kick from this well muscled stallion would easily shatter bone. The rest of his team stood outside the door with bated breath. He snatched the blue vinyl cover from the P Horses back as the horse turned to take a look at what was going on. While shouting "I'm OK", the zoo keeper made an exit that would have made Snagglepuss proud.
When the zookeeper walked past the windows of the vet hospital surrounded by his smiling pack of peers, we had a moment. My thumbs up said, "Good Job!". His confident nod said, "I know, just another day at the office".
Highlight: I managed to stick around for everyone's favorite endangered neonate's afternoon treatment. Caring for Amy Ray is where I prove my worth. I am happy to do whatever is needed to aid in her recovery.
When approached with a rake by the Head Vet, I replied that I am not above mucking stalls for her. To be truthful, I would do just about anything to come back to the Wilds on a Vet Externship during my fourth year of school. Perhaps even as a Resident Veterinarian in a quest for a Conservation Medicine specialization.
Each day, Amy Ray's treatment schedule gets a little bit shorter. The goal now is to support her until she is eatting on her own. I was tasked with observations after treatment was completed to see if she would eat from the feed buckets when her mother returned to the stall.
Amy Ray does not quite have the hang of this solid food thing yet. She follows her mother in a funny game of 'monkey see, monkey do'. Mom takes a step, Baby takes a step. Mom lowers her head, Baby lowers her head. Mom eats from the food buckets, Baby chews on Mom's ears. So close...
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Day 17: "In West Virginia, It's a goral"
Today my time was split between the two worlds I live in here, field research and vet hospital. Lake team's morning was spent surveying my favorite lake yet. It is known as "Waterfall" by the staff here although I saw nothing which resembled Niagra Falls. .
Hiking into the survey site was one of the best hikes yet. It was pretty much a well defined path the entire trip. The trail began in a coniferous forest and ended in a deciduous forest. There was no sign of the lake until we crested the hill to find ourselves right on it's shoreline.
My survey time this morning was quite brief. I spent roughly a half hour on the water until my watch read 9:45. I waded back to the shore and picked up the radio to call the head veterinarian. After saying her call number, I was ready to ask the question I had been looking forward to since I woke.
Lowlight: Me: "Is the gORAL knockdown still a go for this morning?"
Head Vet: "Yes Ron, The Go-RAL procedure is still scheduled for Ten o'clock."
Apparently when I radioed her to check, she was in a meeting with all of the big shots at The Wilds. They had a good laugh at my mispronunciation of the name of the Chinese Goral. Thankfully, I don't mind embarrassing myself. It's worked out pretty well for me thus far.
The Goral was being brought in due to lameness on his right front leg. X-Rays revealed that the poor guy had an entirely fused carpal joint. On the bright side, it was on his front leg. Gorals rely heavily on their back legs for their trademark jumping and climbing abilities.
Highlight: During the Goral procedure, I trimmed my first hoof. It went better than I expected. When the Goral woke up from anesthesia, he had a full mani-pedi courtesy of the Hoofstock Salon.
After the exam, I noticed that it was very close to Amy Ray's afternoon treatment so with permission I stuck around. Sometime over the weekend, she decided that she is now a rodeo bull instead of a baby camel. She kicked, twisted and bucked around the barn stall like the star of a PBR Rodeo before calming down to allow us to check her bandages.
Between treatments, she would circle around us and repeat her bull impression. It was simply adorable. So much so that our normally serious vet whipped out her iPhone to get some video of Amy Ray bounding around like a big scary camel.
Her white blood cell count still indicates that she is fighting an infection. You would never know it by looking at her. She continues to dabble in solid food. Her mentation is bright and responsive. Before the end of her afternoon treatment, Amy Ray had walked around to greet everyone in the room.
Part of the rules I abide by here state that I am not permitted to post any images of collection animals taken in "non-visitor areas". I can't hardly wait until she is released back into her home pasture. I promise that you will get to see every snapshot when that day arrives.
Hiking into the survey site was one of the best hikes yet. It was pretty much a well defined path the entire trip. The trail began in a coniferous forest and ended in a deciduous forest. There was no sign of the lake until we crested the hill to find ourselves right on it's shoreline.
My survey time this morning was quite brief. I spent roughly a half hour on the water until my watch read 9:45. I waded back to the shore and picked up the radio to call the head veterinarian. After saying her call number, I was ready to ask the question I had been looking forward to since I woke.
Lowlight: Me: "Is the gORAL knockdown still a go for this morning?"
Head Vet: "Yes Ron, The Go-RAL procedure is still scheduled for Ten o'clock."
Apparently when I radioed her to check, she was in a meeting with all of the big shots at The Wilds. They had a good laugh at my mispronunciation of the name of the Chinese Goral. Thankfully, I don't mind embarrassing myself. It's worked out pretty well for me thus far.
The Goral was being brought in due to lameness on his right front leg. X-Rays revealed that the poor guy had an entirely fused carpal joint. On the bright side, it was on his front leg. Gorals rely heavily on their back legs for their trademark jumping and climbing abilities.
Highlight: During the Goral procedure, I trimmed my first hoof. It went better than I expected. When the Goral woke up from anesthesia, he had a full mani-pedi courtesy of the Hoofstock Salon.
After the exam, I noticed that it was very close to Amy Ray's afternoon treatment so with permission I stuck around. Sometime over the weekend, she decided that she is now a rodeo bull instead of a baby camel. She kicked, twisted and bucked around the barn stall like the star of a PBR Rodeo before calming down to allow us to check her bandages.
Between treatments, she would circle around us and repeat her bull impression. It was simply adorable. So much so that our normally serious vet whipped out her iPhone to get some video of Amy Ray bounding around like a big scary camel.
Her white blood cell count still indicates that she is fighting an infection. You would never know it by looking at her. She continues to dabble in solid food. Her mentation is bright and responsive. Before the end of her afternoon treatment, Amy Ray had walked around to greet everyone in the room.
Part of the rules I abide by here state that I am not permitted to post any images of collection animals taken in "non-visitor areas". I can't hardly wait until she is released back into her home pasture. I promise that you will get to see every snapshot when that day arrives.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Day 16: The Switch-A-Roo
The fact that frogs are evil creatures who constantly conspire against me is something that has been well documented on this blog. Today was a new high mark for the "Frog vs. Ron" saga. I am fairly sure that frogs on Pond Seventy-Two practice witchcraft.
When I exited the truck to begin the survey, I heard a bullfrog calling from the corner of the pond. I carefully made my way toward the trill sound. I could hear my amphibian foe right next to me, but was unable to locate him.
Standing quietly, I intently scanned the base of the reeds for several minutes. When I finally located the source of the frog calls, I found him staring at me. The frog was hiding slightly more than an arm's length away.
At this point, I has two options. I could try to catch this little bugger with my bare hands or I could attempt to net him. Since this was the first time I had brought my fishing net from home into the field with me, I opted for the net.
When I swiped down I could see him trapped under my net. "Nowhere to run to now", I thought to myself with a grin. That's when it happened. As I raised my net, the frog was completely absent. In place of the frog was a large female banded sac spider speeding toward me. I have no doubt that some form of frog dark arts is responsible for this trick.
Highlight: Largely due to my new Chest Waders (Thanks Dad!!), I was able to reach places which I had not previously been able to survey. When I finally returned to the truck at the end of the day, my feet were dry for the first time since we began this journey three weeks ago.
Lowlight: I also returned to the truck completely empty handed. Another frog lured me into a treacherous area of the pond. Before today, I had never climbed a tree underwater before. I do not look forward to attempting that again.
When I exited the truck to begin the survey, I heard a bullfrog calling from the corner of the pond. I carefully made my way toward the trill sound. I could hear my amphibian foe right next to me, but was unable to locate him.
Standing quietly, I intently scanned the base of the reeds for several minutes. When I finally located the source of the frog calls, I found him staring at me. The frog was hiding slightly more than an arm's length away.
At this point, I has two options. I could try to catch this little bugger with my bare hands or I could attempt to net him. Since this was the first time I had brought my fishing net from home into the field with me, I opted for the net.
When I swiped down I could see him trapped under my net. "Nowhere to run to now", I thought to myself with a grin. That's when it happened. As I raised my net, the frog was completely absent. In place of the frog was a large female banded sac spider speeding toward me. I have no doubt that some form of frog dark arts is responsible for this trick.
Highlight: Largely due to my new Chest Waders (Thanks Dad!!), I was able to reach places which I had not previously been able to survey. When I finally returned to the truck at the end of the day, my feet were dry for the first time since we began this journey three weeks ago.
Lowlight: I also returned to the truck completely empty handed. Another frog lured me into a treacherous area of the pond. Before today, I had never climbed a tree underwater before. I do not look forward to attempting that again.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Day 15: Quick One
Heavy rains bouncing off my window before sunrise woke me well before my alarm. The rain ceased by the time I was ready to walk out the door. Ohio is starting to remind me of Florida. It rains for an hour or two but the sunshine returns promptly.
On this day, the rains had been enough turn the drainage ditch into a swiftly flowing stream of flood waters. The lake survey we were set to complete this morning someplace on the other side. Lake Team searched for an easy route to cross but none was to be found. If we were to reach our destination, we needed to get creative. With help from the forest team that was surveying a site nearby, we found a way across. We would need to use a small tree growing next to the drainage to pole vault our team across.
Some were better vaulters than others, but we all managed to make it across without much water in our boots. Next we were faced with a choice. Either fight through heavy cover and cattails or climb a steep forrested hillside. The hillside appeared to be the path of least resistance.
Somewhere nearby, we heard a crackle of breaking branches. I lifted my eyes just in time to see a large tree fall no more than fifty yards ahead of us. We all agreed that it was unsafe to attempt to survey after Rena retold the story of a girl being smashed under a falling tree at her summer camp.
With no afternoon survey, I went to the vet hospital to assist with Amy Ray's feeding. She is growing more feisty by the day. When I first met her, she would squirm a bit when we cleaned her wounds. Today she was bawling her malcontent as the disinfectant destroyed any bacteria in it's path.
She has begun to munch of the small green alfalfa stalks in her stall. When I mentioned it to the zoo keeper, she said that she would be sure to find more for her. While I look forward to seeing her rereleased back into the pasture with the rest of her family, I know I will miss caring for her whenever I am able.
Highlight: My blood smear technique is steadily improving. Soon I will be able to make passible work. The last preps that I did were only slightly heavy handed.
Lowlight: I was unable to focus the fancy lab microscope at the vet hospital under fourty power when trying to ID the cells in my blood smears. I asked another vet student for assistance and she was not able to obtain a clear image either.
At this point, I had become frustrated with the blood smear and decided to look at a fecal slide that I had also prepared. The head veterinarian heard that I as having trouble with the scope and came over to assist me. She wiped the lens carefully, deftly twisted the microscope controls and asked me to take a look. The image I saw was perfect.
It was not until I switched back to the blood smear that I realized my error. Since I was only doing practice smears, I had not labeled the slide with an ID number. I had been looking at the slides from the wrong side. I quitely flipped the slide over and resumed my work.
On this day, the rains had been enough turn the drainage ditch into a swiftly flowing stream of flood waters. The lake survey we were set to complete this morning someplace on the other side. Lake Team searched for an easy route to cross but none was to be found. If we were to reach our destination, we needed to get creative. With help from the forest team that was surveying a site nearby, we found a way across. We would need to use a small tree growing next to the drainage to pole vault our team across.
Some were better vaulters than others, but we all managed to make it across without much water in our boots. Next we were faced with a choice. Either fight through heavy cover and cattails or climb a steep forrested hillside. The hillside appeared to be the path of least resistance.
Somewhere nearby, we heard a crackle of breaking branches. I lifted my eyes just in time to see a large tree fall no more than fifty yards ahead of us. We all agreed that it was unsafe to attempt to survey after Rena retold the story of a girl being smashed under a falling tree at her summer camp.
With no afternoon survey, I went to the vet hospital to assist with Amy Ray's feeding. She is growing more feisty by the day. When I first met her, she would squirm a bit when we cleaned her wounds. Today she was bawling her malcontent as the disinfectant destroyed any bacteria in it's path.
She has begun to munch of the small green alfalfa stalks in her stall. When I mentioned it to the zoo keeper, she said that she would be sure to find more for her. While I look forward to seeing her rereleased back into the pasture with the rest of her family, I know I will miss caring for her whenever I am able.
Highlight: My blood smear technique is steadily improving. Soon I will be able to make passible work. The last preps that I did were only slightly heavy handed.
Lowlight: I was unable to focus the fancy lab microscope at the vet hospital under fourty power when trying to ID the cells in my blood smears. I asked another vet student for assistance and she was not able to obtain a clear image either.
At this point, I had become frustrated with the blood smear and decided to look at a fecal slide that I had also prepared. The head veterinarian heard that I as having trouble with the scope and came over to assist me. She wiped the lens carefully, deftly twisted the microscope controls and asked me to take a look. The image I saw was perfect.
It was not until I switched back to the blood smear that I realized my error. Since I was only doing practice smears, I had not labeled the slide with an ID number. I had been looking at the slides from the wrong side. I quitely flipped the slide over and resumed my work.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Day 14: First
Gentle ripples spread out from camouflage boots
Grey skies mirrored in the pond surface below
Determined intent spreads tightly across my face
A careful parting of the cattails uncovers my quarry
Another step would reveal my position
I pounce
My hands leading the way
I rise
Bullfrog firmly grasped between my fingers
I yell
FINALLY!
I feel
If only for a single moment in time, I am the King of the Frog Catchers
This was the begining of a day filled with firsts. Amy Ray was the sunshine during a rainy day here at The Wilds. She is continuing her path to a full recovery. She had so many firsts today I think it is best to put them in a list.
Lowlight: Amy Ray is being bottle fed from glass soda bottles. Her favorite is a Pepsi-cola bottle that has a label which leads me to believe that it is antique. While stacking the freshly washed pans after the evening feeding, one slipped and knocked the Pepsi bottle from the counter. It broke into a million little pieces. I swept up not only all the glass, but the entire clinic floor. We shall never speak of said bottle again...
Grey skies mirrored in the pond surface below
Determined intent spreads tightly across my face
A careful parting of the cattails uncovers my quarry
Another step would reveal my position
I pounce
My hands leading the way
I rise
Bullfrog firmly grasped between my fingers
I yell
FINALLY!
I feel
If only for a single moment in time, I am the King of the Frog Catchers
This was the begining of a day filled with firsts. Amy Ray was the sunshine during a rainy day here at The Wilds. She is continuing her path to a full recovery. She had so many firsts today I think it is best to put them in a list.
- Discovered the water fountain in the corner of the room. She was scratching her face on the outer rim of the bowl and accidentally dipped her tiny nose underwater. Shocked, she withdrew immediately and shook her head.
- Stood up on her own. I know it was happening when I was not around because I would return to find her standing with her Mom. I was suprised by the relative gracefulness.
- When she was seperated from her mother, Amy Ray called back in response to her mother's bellowing.
- During the antiseptic cleaning of her elbow wound, she turned and tried to bite the resident vet. She does not have all her teeth yet, so it would have been more adorable than painful.
- Burped softly after finishing her bottle. I could not stiffle my laughter.
Lowlight: Amy Ray is being bottle fed from glass soda bottles. Her favorite is a Pepsi-cola bottle that has a label which leads me to believe that it is antique. While stacking the freshly washed pans after the evening feeding, one slipped and knocked the Pepsi bottle from the counter. It broke into a million little pieces. I swept up not only all the glass, but the entire clinic floor. We shall never speak of said bottle again...
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Day 13: Bye Bye Bolt
"It's 7:50am". The voice belong to my cabin mate and fellow lake
teamer, Brian, who was concerned that I would miss my 8:00 meeting. I woke with
a startle, literally jumped down from my bunk and put my shoes on as I ran out
the door. Today was Bolt's last day at The Wilds.
Bolt is a three year old male cheetah that will be shipping out to San Diego Wildlife Park.
Before any animal leaves for another zoo, the veterinary team must perform a pre-ship examination. This exam is a comprehensive check-up, physical and vaccination procedure.
After a quick shot of ketamine, Bolt slowed down considerably. In order to ensure that Bolt was completely out, our vet was now poking his paw with a finger. Next she tickled his ear with the end of the three foot pole. The world's fastest land animal was now fast asleep inside his transportation crate.
At Ohio State, vet students never touch a live animal until the second half of their third year. When the head vet asked if I had ever done a physical exam, I was SO thankful for my physical diagnosis class which Auburn CVM students take in the second term of the first year. I was seconds away from getting to PET A CHEETAH!
As I waited for the thermometer to give me the temperature reading, I quietly sang "Soft Kitty" to Bolt. It seemed fitting because his fur was just as soft as I had hoped. From that point on, everything started to move a triple speed. I ran my fingers through just about every spot on his lean body. Teeth cleaning, heart rate, anesthesia, four different x-rays, tick removal, vaccinations as well as every possible palpation and auscultation within the span of about an hour.
Fact: Camels have oval shaped Red Blood Cells. During extended dry periods, camels can concentrate their blood to sludge like consistency. The oval shaped cells allow the blood to carry oxygen through the smallest of capillaries under these extreme conditions. Their urine is also concentrated to a similar consistency. However, a lactating mother camel’s milk actually becomes less concentrated, providing much needed water to her offspring.
This is just one example of camel motherly love. I now experience a much louder variety of motherly love on a daily basis. When Jenni Ray is separated from Amy Ray she moans for her baby girl. Jenni Ray's cries vibrate the drab brown cinder block walls of the Medical Barn. This afternoon I knew it was time for Amy Ray's treatment to begin because I heard Jenni Ray's voice from over a mile away.
Highlight: During the bottle feeding this afternoon, Amy Ray kicked at a vet student. I was more cute than violent. Why did I select this as today’s highlight? Last Friday she could barely stand up. Today she was drinking her bottle while standing and still had enough energy left for minor shenanigans.
Even the most cynical animal care staff member had to admit that Amy Ray is starting to look better. She made short work of both her afternoon and evening bottle. Since coming into the clinic, shehas now gained six pounds. She is still mostly skin and bones but gaining weight is a very good sign.
Amy Ray now wants to walk around during treatments. Our Head Vet handed me the IV bag and said, “This is a job for a tall person so hold it high and follow her around.” Walking side by side with Baby Amy, I was gaining more confidence in her ability to make a recovery with each step. Her prognosis is still guarded but the fact that she is now named after our head veterinarian is giving me more hope than ever.
Lowlight: Today was easily the best day that I have had since coming to The Wilds. If there was a lowlight to be found, it is the fact that photographs of me holding the Cheetah's head during the teeth cleaning are not allowed to be posted on the internet for you to see. It was surreal.
Bolt is a three year old male cheetah that will be shipping out to San Diego Wildlife Park.
Before any animal leaves for another zoo, the veterinary team must perform a pre-ship examination. This exam is a comprehensive check-up, physical and vaccination procedure.
After a quick shot of ketamine, Bolt slowed down considerably. In order to ensure that Bolt was completely out, our vet was now poking his paw with a finger. Next she tickled his ear with the end of the three foot pole. The world's fastest land animal was now fast asleep inside his transportation crate.
At Ohio State, vet students never touch a live animal until the second half of their third year. When the head vet asked if I had ever done a physical exam, I was SO thankful for my physical diagnosis class which Auburn CVM students take in the second term of the first year. I was seconds away from getting to PET A CHEETAH!
As I waited for the thermometer to give me the temperature reading, I quietly sang "Soft Kitty" to Bolt. It seemed fitting because his fur was just as soft as I had hoped. From that point on, everything started to move a triple speed. I ran my fingers through just about every spot on his lean body. Teeth cleaning, heart rate, anesthesia, four different x-rays, tick removal, vaccinations as well as every possible palpation and auscultation within the span of about an hour.
Fact: Camels have oval shaped Red Blood Cells. During extended dry periods, camels can concentrate their blood to sludge like consistency. The oval shaped cells allow the blood to carry oxygen through the smallest of capillaries under these extreme conditions. Their urine is also concentrated to a similar consistency. However, a lactating mother camel’s milk actually becomes less concentrated, providing much needed water to her offspring.
This is just one example of camel motherly love. I now experience a much louder variety of motherly love on a daily basis. When Jenni Ray is separated from Amy Ray she moans for her baby girl. Jenni Ray's cries vibrate the drab brown cinder block walls of the Medical Barn. This afternoon I knew it was time for Amy Ray's treatment to begin because I heard Jenni Ray's voice from over a mile away.
Highlight: During the bottle feeding this afternoon, Amy Ray kicked at a vet student. I was more cute than violent. Why did I select this as today’s highlight? Last Friday she could barely stand up. Today she was drinking her bottle while standing and still had enough energy left for minor shenanigans.
Even the most cynical animal care staff member had to admit that Amy Ray is starting to look better. She made short work of both her afternoon and evening bottle. Since coming into the clinic, shehas now gained six pounds. She is still mostly skin and bones but gaining weight is a very good sign.
Amy Ray now wants to walk around during treatments. Our Head Vet handed me the IV bag and said, “This is a job for a tall person so hold it high and follow her around.” Walking side by side with Baby Amy, I was gaining more confidence in her ability to make a recovery with each step. Her prognosis is still guarded but the fact that she is now named after our head veterinarian is giving me more hope than ever.
Lowlight: Today was easily the best day that I have had since coming to The Wilds. If there was a lowlight to be found, it is the fact that photographs of me holding the Cheetah's head during the teeth cleaning are not allowed to be posted on the internet for you to see. It was surreal.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Day 12: All About Amy
I received a message today informing me that no one cares about what happens to my truck. The sender requested that I focus on all the details of the baby camel. I aim to please...
You will be happy to know that the staff here has finally settled on a name for her. From this day forth, she will be known as Amy Rae. It is possible that her name is Amy Ray, though it doesn't seem quite as feminine. I do not know the correct spelling yet because her medical records still list her as "Camel, Female".
When I saw her this evening during the first treatment, Amy was laying on her side. When we placed her into a more natural position for a camel to rest, the wood shaving bedding in which she had been laying was covering her sandy blonde hair. I removed the stray shavings sticking to her long eyelashes with a delicate swipe.
At times during the two treatment sessions, she showed flashes of brightness but overall her demeanor is dull. While we are giving her fluids, I have taken it upon myself to be her defense against barn flies since she is too weak to shoo them away herself. During the late night treatment, I spotted a large bee making a path towards her face. I picked up a nearby piece of straw and knocked that bee into the next county.
I find myself humming to her during treatment. I count her heart rate, respiration rate, run my fingers gently through the soft hair covering her sides then appologize every time I have to take a rectal temperature. When I was alone in the barn stall with her, I sat on the blanket close to her. She leaned into me a little bit and I responded by cuddling her a little bit.
I am getting attached to this creature and that could be a very bad thing. As a veterinarian, becoming attached to patients can be a difficult thing. In an emergency care situation, emotions are not an ally. I believe that a great vet needs to be able to tread a fine line between caring and calculated. The more time I spend watching Amy Rae wobble around, the more the line becomes blurry.
Highlight: Amy Rae finished all of her formula tonight, gulping the second bottle in record time. The fact that she still has an appetite make me feel optomistic. The vet student who is doing her clinical rotation has repeatedly assured me that she is OCD and will exhaust every option to ensure that Amy Rae is getting the best care possible.
Lowlight: Amy Rae is still not standing up on her own despite my very generous incentive. When treatment is completed, we encourge Amy Rae to stand up on her own. I offered her a deal, "I'm going to count to three. If you get up and make a move to run out the door, I will not try to stop you." Thus far she has not taken me up on the offer.
The prognosis for Amy Rae is currently considered guarded at best. I'm holding out hope for a full recovery. On the short ride back to my cabin, I realized that I should be preparing myself for what might be a very bad ending to this chapter of my internship. I'm just not quite ready to accept that yet. I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only one who feels that way...
Postscipt: I normally spell check and redraft these blog posts. Right now I am looking at under four hours of sleep so please accept my appologies for any errors that might be contained in this post because I just don't have the energy to recheck for grammer etc...
You will be happy to know that the staff here has finally settled on a name for her. From this day forth, she will be known as Amy Rae. It is possible that her name is Amy Ray, though it doesn't seem quite as feminine. I do not know the correct spelling yet because her medical records still list her as "Camel, Female".
When I saw her this evening during the first treatment, Amy was laying on her side. When we placed her into a more natural position for a camel to rest, the wood shaving bedding in which she had been laying was covering her sandy blonde hair. I removed the stray shavings sticking to her long eyelashes with a delicate swipe.
At times during the two treatment sessions, she showed flashes of brightness but overall her demeanor is dull. While we are giving her fluids, I have taken it upon myself to be her defense against barn flies since she is too weak to shoo them away herself. During the late night treatment, I spotted a large bee making a path towards her face. I picked up a nearby piece of straw and knocked that bee into the next county.
I find myself humming to her during treatment. I count her heart rate, respiration rate, run my fingers gently through the soft hair covering her sides then appologize every time I have to take a rectal temperature. When I was alone in the barn stall with her, I sat on the blanket close to her. She leaned into me a little bit and I responded by cuddling her a little bit.
I am getting attached to this creature and that could be a very bad thing. As a veterinarian, becoming attached to patients can be a difficult thing. In an emergency care situation, emotions are not an ally. I believe that a great vet needs to be able to tread a fine line between caring and calculated. The more time I spend watching Amy Rae wobble around, the more the line becomes blurry.
Highlight: Amy Rae finished all of her formula tonight, gulping the second bottle in record time. The fact that she still has an appetite make me feel optomistic. The vet student who is doing her clinical rotation has repeatedly assured me that she is OCD and will exhaust every option to ensure that Amy Rae is getting the best care possible.
Lowlight: Amy Rae is still not standing up on her own despite my very generous incentive. When treatment is completed, we encourge Amy Rae to stand up on her own. I offered her a deal, "I'm going to count to three. If you get up and make a move to run out the door, I will not try to stop you." Thus far she has not taken me up on the offer.
The prognosis for Amy Rae is currently considered guarded at best. I'm holding out hope for a full recovery. On the short ride back to my cabin, I realized that I should be preparing myself for what might be a very bad ending to this chapter of my internship. I'm just not quite ready to accept that yet. I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only one who feels that way...
Postscipt: I normally spell check and redraft these blog posts. Right now I am looking at under four hours of sleep so please accept my appologies for any errors that might be contained in this post because I just don't have the energy to recheck for grammer etc...
Monday, June 24, 2013
Day 11: Unlucky Thirteen
"Oooh fuuudge! Only I didn't say 'Fudge.' I said THE word, the big one,
the queen-mother of dirty words, the 'F-dash-dash-dash' word!" - Ralphie
in A Christmas Story
9:30: We arrive at Lake Thirteen.
9:35: I begin the survey in my hip waders in search of my green leaping arch enemies.
9:37: I hear a frog jump in the reeds just in front of me. I decided that I would circle out into the shallow water to force him to the shore where I would have the upper hand.
9:38: Find out the shallow park of the lake is a lie. The footing gives way underneath my second step. I fill up BOTH of my hip waders.
9:39: The person behind me says, "I decided to follow you for the free entertainment." (I'm pretty sure that my fishing buddies back home follow me into the stream for the same reason)
The morning survey was completely worthless. Lake Team packed up our gear in preparation to survey the next site with hopes of better luck to follow. As my tires spun throwing mud over my freshly washed car, I was one with Ralphie.
Lowlight: The ground underneath Ol’ Sunny Jim, my faithful F150, swallowed his tires up to the running boards. We rocked, pushed, pulled and begged but to no avail. Lake Team gathered tree branches and grass in an attempt to free Sunny Jim from his swampy prison. We only managed to dig a deeper hole with each turn of the tires.
After an hour of trial and error, we finally admitted defeat and radioed for help. After half an hour, we saw help on the horizon. The only problem being that horizon was an adjacent lake with no direct path to our location. Our John Deer driving savior did not spot us from across the pond. I now know how a shipwrecked sailor must feel. After two hours of being stuck in the mud, help finally arrived to free Sunny Jim.
Highlight: The radio crackled with a message from the head veterinarian of The Wilds. She was requesting that I come to the vet hospital at 1:15pm. When I arrived she asked if I would be interested in assisting with treatment on a two week old baby Bactrian camel, a critically endangered species. I agreed to help before she finished the question.
The baby camel was brought into the hospital because a keeper thought that she might have been kicked by another animal on exhibit. Upon examination, a serious infection of the umbilicus was discovered. They had begun a treatment regimen of bottle feeding, fluids and antibiotic therapy every four hours. I would be lending a hand during the afternoon and evening shifts.
When we walked into the medical barn stall where she was being held, it took every ounce of willpower not to run in and hug her little neck. I knelt next to her and she leaned her weary body into me. I stayed in that position even after I felt the tingles of my legs going to sleep.
During each of the sessions, I noticed small progress. Her vitals are improving but she still has a way to go before she will be ready to return to the pasture with the rest of her family. I'll be sure to keep updating you on her condition as the case progresses.
9:30: We arrive at Lake Thirteen.
9:35: I begin the survey in my hip waders in search of my green leaping arch enemies.
9:37: I hear a frog jump in the reeds just in front of me. I decided that I would circle out into the shallow water to force him to the shore where I would have the upper hand.
9:38: Find out the shallow park of the lake is a lie. The footing gives way underneath my second step. I fill up BOTH of my hip waders.
9:39: The person behind me says, "I decided to follow you for the free entertainment." (I'm pretty sure that my fishing buddies back home follow me into the stream for the same reason)
The morning survey was completely worthless. Lake Team packed up our gear in preparation to survey the next site with hopes of better luck to follow. As my tires spun throwing mud over my freshly washed car, I was one with Ralphie.
Lowlight: The ground underneath Ol’ Sunny Jim, my faithful F150, swallowed his tires up to the running boards. We rocked, pushed, pulled and begged but to no avail. Lake Team gathered tree branches and grass in an attempt to free Sunny Jim from his swampy prison. We only managed to dig a deeper hole with each turn of the tires.
After an hour of trial and error, we finally admitted defeat and radioed for help. After half an hour, we saw help on the horizon. The only problem being that horizon was an adjacent lake with no direct path to our location. Our John Deer driving savior did not spot us from across the pond. I now know how a shipwrecked sailor must feel. After two hours of being stuck in the mud, help finally arrived to free Sunny Jim.
Highlight: The radio crackled with a message from the head veterinarian of The Wilds. She was requesting that I come to the vet hospital at 1:15pm. When I arrived she asked if I would be interested in assisting with treatment on a two week old baby Bactrian camel, a critically endangered species. I agreed to help before she finished the question.
The baby camel was brought into the hospital because a keeper thought that she might have been kicked by another animal on exhibit. Upon examination, a serious infection of the umbilicus was discovered. They had begun a treatment regimen of bottle feeding, fluids and antibiotic therapy every four hours. I would be lending a hand during the afternoon and evening shifts.
When we walked into the medical barn stall where she was being held, it took every ounce of willpower not to run in and hug her little neck. I knelt next to her and she leaned her weary body into me. I stayed in that position even after I felt the tingles of my legs going to sleep.
During each of the sessions, I noticed small progress. Her vitals are improving but she still has a way to go before she will be ready to return to the pasture with the rest of her family. I'll be sure to keep updating you on her condition as the case progresses.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Day 10: Flipping Rocks
On the morning of the tenth day of my internship, I woke up before my alarm. It's not that uncommon for me to do this. I normally just close my eyes again to wait for the alarm. This morning, I immediately sat up. I hopped down from my top bunk with the zest of a twelve year old. Today we were on a quest for the second largest giant salamander in the world. To be more specific, we were in search of the Eastern Hellbender.
My work here to this point has been primarily with turtles, frogs and snakes. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to go into the field in search of those creatures. "Hellbendering" is on a whole different level for me. To sum up the experience for you, it goes something like this...
Step 1: Find a stream with big flat rocks on the bottom roughly the size of a Smart Car.
Step 2: Deadlift those rocks with a few of your friends, sometimes against the current of the stream.
Step 3: Pray while holding up that rock your friends will find a hellbender while groping the ground under said rock.
If you are lucky enough to find a hellbender, the excitement really starts. The hellbender's nickname is the "snot otter" because of the slimy secretion on their skin. They are close to impossible to get a good grip on with bare hands. Couple that with the fact that the visibility in the water after lifitng the rock is close to zero and you are starting to get an idea of the challenge.
Did I mention that they have two rows of small teeth and do a deathroll like an alligator when they bite down on something? Now you might be asking yourself, "Why would anyone in their right mind seek these salamanders out?" The answer is that they are an important indicator species for freshwater quality. The hellbender has experienced an eighty percent decline in population over recent years. In fact, the state of West Virginia has now made the eastern hellbender a protected species.
With the sun rising into the sky, we waded into our first survey site on the stream. During a previous internship, I has surveyed the same section of stream with great success in finding hellbenders. The main difference this time was the site is now very close to areas being hydraulic fracture mined for natural gas. (ie. "fracking")
I cannot point the finger directly at fracking for our lack of success in the morning survey. The other invertebrate water quality indicater species were found under some of the rocks we lifted. There are too many variables to say with a high degree of certainty why this happened. None the less, I find it a little suspicous that a section of stream which had yielded about 40 captures over the past few years was now completely vacant.
Highlight: HELLBENDERING!! It's pretty much my favorite thing ever. Our afternoon survey in a different section of the stream was much more productive. We managed to find four hellbenders, of which two were able to be wrangled into our net. Both salamanders were large females over nineteen inches long. Both Amanda (a vet student from Ohio State University) and I were able to draw blood, but I am sad to report that my one stick streak has come to an end again.
Lowlight: On completion of our survey, we began the long trek back to our vehicles. It was a matter of minutes before I stepped into a hole and fell into the stream. The scraped palms and laughter were secondary to the pain in my foot. I'm pretty sure that I now have a broken middle toe. (Don't freak out Mom, it's not so bad)
The streak is dead. Each step that I took towards home was painful. Despite all of that, this was easily the best day of my internship. I love the hellbenders!
PS: If you would like to learn more about what you can do to help preserve this very important species, visit the "Help The Hellbender" website which has great information for teachers, farmers, anglers and kids of all ages.
My work here to this point has been primarily with turtles, frogs and snakes. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to go into the field in search of those creatures. "Hellbendering" is on a whole different level for me. To sum up the experience for you, it goes something like this...
Step 1: Find a stream with big flat rocks on the bottom roughly the size of a Smart Car.
Step 2: Deadlift those rocks with a few of your friends, sometimes against the current of the stream.
Step 3: Pray while holding up that rock your friends will find a hellbender while groping the ground under said rock.
If you are lucky enough to find a hellbender, the excitement really starts. The hellbender's nickname is the "snot otter" because of the slimy secretion on their skin. They are close to impossible to get a good grip on with bare hands. Couple that with the fact that the visibility in the water after lifitng the rock is close to zero and you are starting to get an idea of the challenge.
Did I mention that they have two rows of small teeth and do a deathroll like an alligator when they bite down on something? Now you might be asking yourself, "Why would anyone in their right mind seek these salamanders out?" The answer is that they are an important indicator species for freshwater quality. The hellbender has experienced an eighty percent decline in population over recent years. In fact, the state of West Virginia has now made the eastern hellbender a protected species.
With the sun rising into the sky, we waded into our first survey site on the stream. During a previous internship, I has surveyed the same section of stream with great success in finding hellbenders. The main difference this time was the site is now very close to areas being hydraulic fracture mined for natural gas. (ie. "fracking")
I cannot point the finger directly at fracking for our lack of success in the morning survey. The other invertebrate water quality indicater species were found under some of the rocks we lifted. There are too many variables to say with a high degree of certainty why this happened. None the less, I find it a little suspicous that a section of stream which had yielded about 40 captures over the past few years was now completely vacant.
Highlight: HELLBENDERING!! It's pretty much my favorite thing ever. Our afternoon survey in a different section of the stream was much more productive. We managed to find four hellbenders, of which two were able to be wrangled into our net. Both salamanders were large females over nineteen inches long. Both Amanda (a vet student from Ohio State University) and I were able to draw blood, but I am sad to report that my one stick streak has come to an end again.
Lowlight: On completion of our survey, we began the long trek back to our vehicles. It was a matter of minutes before I stepped into a hole and fell into the stream. The scraped palms and laughter were secondary to the pain in my foot. I'm pretty sure that I now have a broken middle toe. (Don't freak out Mom, it's not so bad)
The streak is dead. Each step that I took towards home was painful. Despite all of that, this was easily the best day of my internship. I love the hellbenders!
PS: If you would like to learn more about what you can do to help preserve this very important species, visit the "Help The Hellbender" website which has great information for teachers, farmers, anglers and kids of all ages.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Day 9: Montani Semper Liberi
I am well aware that White Tail Deer are not limited to West Virginia. Anytime
that I see a White Tail Deer, my thoughts immediately return to West Virginia.
As a child I would climb trees and wait for them to walk by my hiding place.
They were the spirit of the mountain forests that made me into the man I am
today.
This morning while hiking to our lake survey site, I counted eight deer running away from us. When we arrived at the pond, a mother and her two fawns were drinking on the far side of the lake. During the morning survey, there were deer at every turn. What a fitting way to celebrate the 150th birthday of the mountain state. No matter where my journey takes me, West Virginia will always be my home. Montani Semper Liberi, Mountaineers are Always Free!
Our survey today was almost completely fruitless. We saw fish, deer, even a musk rat that nipped at a team member’s boot. If not for the eleventh hour heroics of Brian, we would have returned to the training center completely empty handed. The canoe group spotted a turtle staring at me from the water’s edge. While I distracted him, Brian crept up from the side. The turtle was on to us but it was too late. A leaping pounce captured our first specimen a half hour before quitting time. A few minutes later, we had our second turtle of the day. Yes, the one stick streak is still intact. Viva la streak.
I am getting closer to actually catching a frog. I was able to touch one this morning before he disappeared into the reeds. While hiking back to the truck for lunch, I proudly announced my small feat to our team. Danielle replied, "Well, you have to walk before you can run." Before the next eight weeks are over, I am determined to catch a frog. When I do you can bet that I will be running to the nearest keyboard to announce it to the world.
Highlight: While staying out of the way of the wildlife experts, I managed to find a tibia from a deer. It was not in the best condition but I thought it was neat so I kept it. When we met back up with the rest of the team, I learned that Danielle had found the skull, a femur and a humerus. They are now adorning a table on the back porch of our cabin. In the afternoon, I added os coxae to the bone collection.
Lowlight: I was covering the hillside on our afternoon survey while the team covered the water’s edge. As they moved forward, I saw motion in the tall grass in front of me. Parting the grass, I laid eyes upon my amphibian nemesis, The Green Frog. He must have heard from the others that the best chance for escape was to head towards the tall guy.
I called for a net and positioned Matt to block the frogs escape. Holding my hands in a 'V' shape, I made my move. Matt stood up with my frog in the net. My delight at seeing my plan executed to perfection was short lived. The frog squirmed, squeaked and escaped right through the net. I could not believe my eyes when I watched him make two leaps and land directly in the water to swim to freedom.
This morning while hiking to our lake survey site, I counted eight deer running away from us. When we arrived at the pond, a mother and her two fawns were drinking on the far side of the lake. During the morning survey, there were deer at every turn. What a fitting way to celebrate the 150th birthday of the mountain state. No matter where my journey takes me, West Virginia will always be my home. Montani Semper Liberi, Mountaineers are Always Free!
Our survey today was almost completely fruitless. We saw fish, deer, even a musk rat that nipped at a team member’s boot. If not for the eleventh hour heroics of Brian, we would have returned to the training center completely empty handed. The canoe group spotted a turtle staring at me from the water’s edge. While I distracted him, Brian crept up from the side. The turtle was on to us but it was too late. A leaping pounce captured our first specimen a half hour before quitting time. A few minutes later, we had our second turtle of the day. Yes, the one stick streak is still intact. Viva la streak.
I am getting closer to actually catching a frog. I was able to touch one this morning before he disappeared into the reeds. While hiking back to the truck for lunch, I proudly announced my small feat to our team. Danielle replied, "Well, you have to walk before you can run." Before the next eight weeks are over, I am determined to catch a frog. When I do you can bet that I will be running to the nearest keyboard to announce it to the world.
Highlight: While staying out of the way of the wildlife experts, I managed to find a tibia from a deer. It was not in the best condition but I thought it was neat so I kept it. When we met back up with the rest of the team, I learned that Danielle had found the skull, a femur and a humerus. They are now adorning a table on the back porch of our cabin. In the afternoon, I added os coxae to the bone collection.
Lowlight: I was covering the hillside on our afternoon survey while the team covered the water’s edge. As they moved forward, I saw motion in the tall grass in front of me. Parting the grass, I laid eyes upon my amphibian nemesis, The Green Frog. He must have heard from the others that the best chance for escape was to head towards the tall guy.
I called for a net and positioned Matt to block the frogs escape. Holding my hands in a 'V' shape, I made my move. Matt stood up with my frog in the net. My delight at seeing my plan executed to perfection was short lived. The frog squirmed, squeaked and escaped right through the net. I could not believe my eyes when I watched him make two leaps and land directly in the water to swim to freedom.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Day 8: The Turtle Man Cometh
Some people are born to drive a tractor trailer. Others are meant to be
surgeons, sailors, or salesmen. There are a select few who are meant to be
wildlife biologists. Today I witnessed a man who has no doubt about his purpose
on this planet.
Lake Team stood on a sunny hillside overlooking the first pond in the second phase of our survey. Some of us were looking for birds, others listening for frogs, and I was reciting the Shehecheyanu in my mind. Through a pair of binoculars from at least one hundred yards away, Matt spotted a submerged something.
The five minutes allotted for quite observations expired. Matt was seventy five yards ahead of me before I even got started. After four bounding steps, he plunged a hand into the water. When I saw the snapping turtle break the surface of the water, I doubled my pace to the shoreline for data collection on our first capture of the day.
I have learned to give the experts their space to work during our surveys. My plodding steps through the brush or water only serve to scare any wildlife away. After the release of the first turtle, Matt was headed towards the reeds on the right side of the lake. I set my course in the opposite direction.
From the across the lake, I could make out a celebratory fist pump. Two painted turtles with one fell swoop of his net. When he made it back to our group, the excitement on his face spoke more loudly than any words ever could. Matt was born a turtle man.
Highlight: The turtles that I have previously collected blood from were "slow bleeders". Today I modified my technique and the flood gates opened. I collected twice the amount of blood in a few seconds from the turtles than I had in a minute on the previous turtles. Three for three on the first poke today. Viva la one stick streak!
Lowlight: As late as 9:30pm, I was without a lowlight for the day. You and I both know that it was too good to be true. I pray this is the last time that I will have to write the following words. I spilled an ENTIRE bottle of Dif Quick Stain on the lab bench. The stream of profanity that followed was enough to make George Carlin roll over in his grave. From this moment forward, Dif Quick staining of slides is strictly a two hand operation.
Lake Team stood on a sunny hillside overlooking the first pond in the second phase of our survey. Some of us were looking for birds, others listening for frogs, and I was reciting the Shehecheyanu in my mind. Through a pair of binoculars from at least one hundred yards away, Matt spotted a submerged something.
The five minutes allotted for quite observations expired. Matt was seventy five yards ahead of me before I even got started. After four bounding steps, he plunged a hand into the water. When I saw the snapping turtle break the surface of the water, I doubled my pace to the shoreline for data collection on our first capture of the day.
I have learned to give the experts their space to work during our surveys. My plodding steps through the brush or water only serve to scare any wildlife away. After the release of the first turtle, Matt was headed towards the reeds on the right side of the lake. I set my course in the opposite direction.
From the across the lake, I could make out a celebratory fist pump. Two painted turtles with one fell swoop of his net. When he made it back to our group, the excitement on his face spoke more loudly than any words ever could. Matt was born a turtle man.
Highlight: The turtles that I have previously collected blood from were "slow bleeders". Today I modified my technique and the flood gates opened. I collected twice the amount of blood in a few seconds from the turtles than I had in a minute on the previous turtles. Three for three on the first poke today. Viva la one stick streak!
Lowlight: As late as 9:30pm, I was without a lowlight for the day. You and I both know that it was too good to be true. I pray this is the last time that I will have to write the following words. I spilled an ENTIRE bottle of Dif Quick Stain on the lab bench. The stream of profanity that followed was enough to make George Carlin roll over in his grave. From this moment forward, Dif Quick staining of slides is strictly a two hand operation.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Day 7: Twosday
After the dreaded canoe-yacht debacle, I was a little slower to scramble out of the top bunk this morning. I was so tired last night that I decided to get up early to launder the field clothing I needed to wear today. Due to spin cycle issues, I spent the first half hour of the morning in the training center wearing my mermaid PJ pants and a Snoopy t-shirt. When the lake team finally loaded up our gear, I was dressed in damp field clothes.
Our team was plus one for the day's activity. Our transient team member Brian joined the group this morning. His presence immediately changed our mojo. The first time Brian had a net in his hand, he captured one of the frogs that had eluded us for an entire day. This would be the first of many captures.
Highlight: Brian celebrated Twosday in the most epic fashion possible. He captured a Northern Water Snake during the afternoon survey. Not just any Northern Water Snake, but one that had just caught a large Bull Frog by it's back leg. When Brian emerged from the reeds, he had a firm grip on the snake which in turn had a firm grip on the frog. We were able to sample and process both animals and return them to the water relatively unharmed.
This was the first time that I have ever drawn blood from a snake of any kind. I located the cloaca with some help from Matt and held off the snake's tail. A certain Dr. Ray would have been proud when I hit the caudal vein on the first stick. The streak is back, War Damn Eagle!
Not anticipating the capture of a water snake, we found ourselves without a bag to use for weight. In the name of science, I took off my shirt. After tying the neck and arms closed, we were able to use it to find out the snake weighed sixteen ounces. I smelled vaguely of snake musk for the remainder of the day. Totally worth it.
Upon returning the snake to the water, Brian commented that he heard this species was "really aggressive". The rumors are true. The snake circled around and swam back at us like it wanted to taste our flesh. Not only had we stolen his meal, we also took some of his blood. I can't say I blame him, I would probably do the same thing.
Lowlight: Going with the twosday theme, I am going to share two lowlights. A frog escaped my grip while preparing to collect data. With a curse, I dropped to my knees to try to recapture the crafty little bugger. Alas, he soon disappeared not to be seen again. I still stink at catching frogs.
My second lowlight of the day was during data collection on another frog. I could not find the portable scale anywhere in my field pack. My teammate searched her pack for the scale as well. As she began to trek back to search the ground we had covered for it, I looked down. I had been sticking out of my front pocket the entire time. Good thing it was not a Northern Water Snake or I would have been in real trouble...
Monday, June 17, 2013
Day 6: Staring Contest
She fixed her gaze upon mine, inviting me to look away. I refused to be the
first one to blink. Promises tumbled from my mouth which I knew I could not
keep. If she would only let me touch her skin, just
for a moment, it would be enough. She looked at me as though she had heard it
all before, stopping short of calling me a liar.
I begged her to reconsider as I inched closer. Reassuring her that my intentions were true. I whispered sweetly that I would never do her any harm. Slowly I knelt down beside her. Her stare said it all, "Not today, not ever. I will never be yours to have and to hold."
Unwavering in my determination, I reached out my hand to her. That was the moment she looked away. A squeal then two quick hops followed by cacophony of laughter from her friends. The female green frog which I wanted to catch so very badly disappeared into the reeds and then splashed away into the pond. This was the story of the day for specimen collection. The lesson learned? I stink at catching frogs but I can beat them in a staring contest every time.
Highlight: Our pond research team is really starting to gel. We work well together and everyone has complimentary skills. The team building exercise that we did this afternoon brought us all a little closer together.
Lowlight: The "team building exercise". Per our request, we were given a canoe to do our pond surveys. It is two-tone yellow fiberglass fitted with wooden seats sporting built in cup holders. The luxury yacht of canoes. Sadly, it also weighs roughly the same amount as a luxury yacht.
We pushed, pulled, cursed and carried our canoe all day long across several miles of hilly terrain and challenging cover. The trip to the pond was muggy and hot under cloudy skies. The quest back to the truck was muddy, wet, rainy and miserable. It took every ounce of strength from our team to complete the journey.
I am now sporting two rope burns across the tops of my shoulders from my impression of an ox dragging the canoe-yacht up a fourty-five degree slope. Another team member has a bruise in the shape of the docking tie on her thigh. When we finally got into the truck to head home, a voice from the back seat said "I hope I never see another canoe again". Chelsea, I could not agree more....
I begged her to reconsider as I inched closer. Reassuring her that my intentions were true. I whispered sweetly that I would never do her any harm. Slowly I knelt down beside her. Her stare said it all, "Not today, not ever. I will never be yours to have and to hold."
Unwavering in my determination, I reached out my hand to her. That was the moment she looked away. A squeal then two quick hops followed by cacophony of laughter from her friends. The female green frog which I wanted to catch so very badly disappeared into the reeds and then splashed away into the pond. This was the story of the day for specimen collection. The lesson learned? I stink at catching frogs but I can beat them in a staring contest every time.
Highlight: Our pond research team is really starting to gel. We work well together and everyone has complimentary skills. The team building exercise that we did this afternoon brought us all a little closer together.
Lowlight: The "team building exercise". Per our request, we were given a canoe to do our pond surveys. It is two-tone yellow fiberglass fitted with wooden seats sporting built in cup holders. The luxury yacht of canoes. Sadly, it also weighs roughly the same amount as a luxury yacht.
We pushed, pulled, cursed and carried our canoe all day long across several miles of hilly terrain and challenging cover. The trip to the pond was muggy and hot under cloudy skies. The quest back to the truck was muddy, wet, rainy and miserable. It took every ounce of strength from our team to complete the journey.
I am now sporting two rope burns across the tops of my shoulders from my impression of an ox dragging the canoe-yacht up a fourty-five degree slope. Another team member has a bruise in the shape of the docking tie on her thigh. When we finally got into the truck to head home, a voice from the back seat said "I hope I never see another canoe again". Chelsea, I could not agree more....
Day 5: Mud On The Tires
Driving into the park today, I saw a giraffe walking along the hillside in the distance. The whole scene was very Jurrasic Park (before the dinosaurs escaped). Even after a week, I still get this feeling of childlike awe anytime I enter the gates of The Wilds.
During the morning lake survey, I had the chance to observe a family of osprey who called a post next to the lake home. My birdwatching session was cut short by a call from my boss alerting us to his capture of a green frog on the other side of the pond.
Shortly after finishing up with collecting data from the frog capture, we were luck enough to find another snapping turtle. I pulled out my iPhone and got some great video of the snapping turtle capture. This female turtle weighed in at a whopping 27 pounds. The rest of the day did not yield any more animals but the weather was so nice I didn't mind.
Highlight: I now understand why people love to go mudding. Slip-sliding down a dirt road in my truck was AWESOME! During our afternoon trip into the field, I hit a giant mud puddle and the spray was enough to coat my truck from bumper to bumper. Can't hardly wait to do it again.
Lowlight: My one stick streak has come to an end. I guess I cursed myself by putting it on the blog. I was still able to draw blood from the turtle, but only on my third attempt. Hopefully I will be able to start a new streak as soon as possible.
During the morning lake survey, I had the chance to observe a family of osprey who called a post next to the lake home. My birdwatching session was cut short by a call from my boss alerting us to his capture of a green frog on the other side of the pond.
Shortly after finishing up with collecting data from the frog capture, we were luck enough to find another snapping turtle. I pulled out my iPhone and got some great video of the snapping turtle capture. This female turtle weighed in at a whopping 27 pounds. The rest of the day did not yield any more animals but the weather was so nice I didn't mind.
Highlight: I now understand why people love to go mudding. Slip-sliding down a dirt road in my truck was AWESOME! During our afternoon trip into the field, I hit a giant mud puddle and the spray was enough to coat my truck from bumper to bumper. Can't hardly wait to do it again.
Lowlight: My one stick streak has come to an end. I guess I cursed myself by putting it on the blog. I was still able to draw blood from the turtle, but only on my third attempt. Hopefully I will be able to start a new streak as soon as possible.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Day 4: Rain Delay
Day 4 got underway with a good old fashioned rain delay. After packing up the worlds smallest backpack with all the essentials for project data and sample collection, marching to our field site in the pouring rain, the radio put an end to our excursion. Lightning had been spotted in the storm making a pond survey unsafe so we hiked back to the trucks.
The rain delay turned into paper writing time. It's been so long since I had to write an actual research paper that I am having some trouble getting started. Coming here I was really excited about the field work, not so much the paper writing. When I later found out that the restoration ecology group was outside planting trees throughout the entire storm I decided that I should not complain about how boring research papers can be at times.
After an evening spent watching the sunset and counting stars in my backyard, a bunkside conversation with my roommate may have given me a new idea for an additional research project this summer. It's too early to really say what I plan to do but I think it could be a fairly good one. I guess I'll find out when I pitch it to Joe in the morning.
Highlight of the day: An email from my mother who is "technology challenged" written in half-caps. The email stated that my father told her I was writting a blog and she would like to read it. Please excuse me while I take the time to finish my reply email...MOM, if you can read this YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT...
Lowlight of the day: After returning from lunch, all of the floor mats in the classrom had disappeared. With all the rain there was no way to dust for fingerprints but I suspect the kids camp councilors.
Final Note: If you want to see my backyard and other instagood things that I see this summer, check out my new instagram widget on the right side of the screen.
The rain delay turned into paper writing time. It's been so long since I had to write an actual research paper that I am having some trouble getting started. Coming here I was really excited about the field work, not so much the paper writing. When I later found out that the restoration ecology group was outside planting trees throughout the entire storm I decided that I should not complain about how boring research papers can be at times.
After an evening spent watching the sunset and counting stars in my backyard, a bunkside conversation with my roommate may have given me a new idea for an additional research project this summer. It's too early to really say what I plan to do but I think it could be a fairly good one. I guess I'll find out when I pitch it to Joe in the morning.
Highlight of the day: An email from my mother who is "technology challenged" written in half-caps. The email stated that my father told her I was writting a blog and she would like to read it. Please excuse me while I take the time to finish my reply email...MOM, if you can read this YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT...
Lowlight of the day: After returning from lunch, all of the floor mats in the classrom had disappeared. With all the rain there was no way to dust for fingerprints but I suspect the kids camp councilors.
Final Note: If you want to see my backyard and other instagood things that I see this summer, check out my new instagram widget on the right side of the screen.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Day 3: The First Day Afield.
It was a great day to be in the field doing research. Our first pond survey of the morning was a bust. Only mud puddle worth of water was left in the dried up pond bed. After flipping several large rocks, it became clear that all signs of animal life had moved on to other sections of the property.
Our next stop was the sight of much more animal activity. On the trail to the second pond, I was walking in a grassy area where I saw a slithering shape rush before my feet. "Snake" was the only thing I could say. My fellow intern Matt used his ninja-like reflexes to corral the gardener snake for our first measurements of the day. When we finally made it to the pond, Matt spotted something that looked like a rock in the pond. Moments later he was rushing through the reeds with our director close behind to capture a 25lb snapping turtle. This was the first snapping turtle I have ever seen in my life. This creature looked prehistoric. Huge claws, crusty shell, and a mouth that chopped a sturdy tree branch into two fractured pieces. I was next able to handle a baby ringneck snake. After a few quick measurements and some photos, we put the little guy back where we found him.
As for my part in the research, it could not have gone better. I started the day with a blood draw on a female box turtle who was a "one stick" blood draw. I was also able to get blood from the snapping turtle's caudal vein on the first try. When I got the flash of snapping turtle blood in the syringe, the second in command of our research team said, "Wow, where have YOU been?!?". Little things like that make me more confident than ever that I have chosen my future profession wisely.
After lunch, we surveyed a much larger pond than either of the two sites visited during the morning session. While the afternoon session did not yield any reptiles or amphibians, we flushed two woodcocks and a female wood duck from the riparian zone of the pond. Seeing these game birds in flight made me miss my trusty bird dog Roland.
Highlight: 2 for 2 on one stick blood draws today. Let's just hope I can keep the streak alive for a little while longer.
Lowlight: The afternoon pond survey was BRUTAL! The sun was out full force and the far side of the large pond we circled was roughly a 30 degree slope covered in waist high grass as well as every kind of thorny plant imaginable. It was almost as if Mother Nature required my blood in exchange for the two cc's collected from turtles that morning. Seems like a fair trade...
Our next stop was the sight of much more animal activity. On the trail to the second pond, I was walking in a grassy area where I saw a slithering shape rush before my feet. "Snake" was the only thing I could say. My fellow intern Matt used his ninja-like reflexes to corral the gardener snake for our first measurements of the day. When we finally made it to the pond, Matt spotted something that looked like a rock in the pond. Moments later he was rushing through the reeds with our director close behind to capture a 25lb snapping turtle. This was the first snapping turtle I have ever seen in my life. This creature looked prehistoric. Huge claws, crusty shell, and a mouth that chopped a sturdy tree branch into two fractured pieces. I was next able to handle a baby ringneck snake. After a few quick measurements and some photos, we put the little guy back where we found him.
As for my part in the research, it could not have gone better. I started the day with a blood draw on a female box turtle who was a "one stick" blood draw. I was also able to get blood from the snapping turtle's caudal vein on the first try. When I got the flash of snapping turtle blood in the syringe, the second in command of our research team said, "Wow, where have YOU been?!?". Little things like that make me more confident than ever that I have chosen my future profession wisely.
After lunch, we surveyed a much larger pond than either of the two sites visited during the morning session. While the afternoon session did not yield any reptiles or amphibians, we flushed two woodcocks and a female wood duck from the riparian zone of the pond. Seeing these game birds in flight made me miss my trusty bird dog Roland.
Highlight: 2 for 2 on one stick blood draws today. Let's just hope I can keep the streak alive for a little while longer.
Lowlight: The afternoon pond survey was BRUTAL! The sun was out full force and the far side of the large pond we circled was roughly a 30 degree slope covered in waist high grass as well as every kind of thorny plant imaginable. It was almost as if Mother Nature required my blood in exchange for the two cc's collected from turtles that morning. Seems like a fair trade...
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Day 2: The Bus Tour
The second day of the internship was the grand tour. I finally was able to see the animals of the zoo. Amazing. Baby Rhino, Baby Giraffe, Baby Camel. It was a trifecta of cuteness. The clouds disappeared to allow for a sunny lunch overlooking the entire park. I probably should have taken a picture of the view but I'm sure I will remember to take a snapshot before I finish my internship at The Wilds.
After lunch we were addressed by the chief executive of the wilds, Mr. Rick Dietz. Before I stepped foot on the grounds of The Wilds, I thought this was just another zoo. Over the past two days, I developed a sense that this place was different but I could not quite put it into words. During Mr. Dietz presentation, he used the phrase that I had been lacking. The Wilds is a living laboratory. Tomorrow morning I will venture into the living laboratory on foot for the first time. I'm hoping for an epic adventure.
Day 2 Highlight: Strawberry Goat Cheese Salad with Grilled Chicken. Honorable mention to baby exotics but the salad I had for lunch exceded all expecations. I was fully aware that a baby giraffe would be freaking adorable.
Day 2 Lowlight: Spilled a quarter bottle of dif quick 1 while demonstrating a blood smear in front of the rest of the interns. Oh well, I've come to accept occasionally clumsy as part of my life...
After lunch we were addressed by the chief executive of the wilds, Mr. Rick Dietz. Before I stepped foot on the grounds of The Wilds, I thought this was just another zoo. Over the past two days, I developed a sense that this place was different but I could not quite put it into words. During Mr. Dietz presentation, he used the phrase that I had been lacking. The Wilds is a living laboratory. Tomorrow morning I will venture into the living laboratory on foot for the first time. I'm hoping for an epic adventure.
Day 2 Highlight: Strawberry Goat Cheese Salad with Grilled Chicken. Honorable mention to baby exotics but the salad I had for lunch exceded all expecations. I was fully aware that a baby giraffe would be freaking adorable.
Day 2 Lowlight: Spilled a quarter bottle of dif quick 1 while demonstrating a blood smear in front of the rest of the interns. Oh well, I've come to accept occasionally clumsy as part of my life...
Monday, June 10, 2013
Day 1: Orientation
Today was the first day of my summer internship. This is the second zoo internship that I have done so I thought I had an idea of what I would be doing here. My first internship was basically an unpaid animal care position. This internship is WAY more involved. I have been tapped as the "needle man", meaning that during the course of the summer I will be drawing blood on aquatic snakes, turtles and salamanders. Under normal circumstances I would be really excited about the situation but in this case I am actually a little bit nervous. In order to complete the protocol for my study, I need to be able to find a vein that can't be seen and draw the blood in 3 minutes or less after capture. It's like fast food phlebotomy. I'm just hoping that I don't hear the jeopardy theme song playing while I am streamside. My saving grace is that I am not the only "needle man" on these projects.
Highlight of Day 1: Seeing a Giraffe fetus preserved in a jar. The fetus was an incidental finding on a necropsy and the attending vet decided to keep it around. I know, I'm kind of weird like that...
Lowlight of Day 1: Rain, rain, rain. Too wet for a camp fire tonight but I guess it doesn't matter anyway. Orientation day 2 is right around the corner...
Highlight of Day 1: Seeing a Giraffe fetus preserved in a jar. The fetus was an incidental finding on a necropsy and the attending vet decided to keep it around. I know, I'm kind of weird like that...
Lowlight of Day 1: Rain, rain, rain. Too wet for a camp fire tonight but I guess it doesn't matter anyway. Orientation day 2 is right around the corner...
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