Blood, birds and buns

First, I have to give a shout-out to Kathi, aka katdoc, for her lovely contribution to RAPTOR, Inc. She has been trapping house sparrows in an in-nesting box trap. She accumlulated a bag full and I went and picked them up to take over to the RAPTOR freezers.
She said, and I feel the same way, that she hates doing this (after all, she IS a vet!) but it made her feel better that the carcasses were going to a good cause.
A funny moment, that I think Kathi didn't catch:
Her receptionist was watching this dead bird exchange, and I glanced over at her and smiled, but she had a look of such total revulsion and disgust and shock on her face. I guess she doesn't put up bluebird houses.
This ties in nicely with some pictures I got today. I took the bag o' birds to RAPTOR, and peeked in on the program birds. And the great horned owl scared the bejesus out of me:

Ack! Did she hurt herself?????
Nope...here's where the blood came from...(Scroll down if you have a weak constitution)





An eviscerated rat. I've never seen one so bloody before. Of course, I usually see the left overs as just a tail or some feet.
When I began volunteering at RAPTOR, there were many times I had to fight down the vomit. But as time went on, I started to see the rats and mice as just food. Sure, there were a few times I was tempted to take home a few of the cuter, live mice in the basement. But I resisted.
I think the whole "prey" thing can turn people off initially, as I can see it in the faces of new volunteers. But part of you hardens a little, working with not just the feeding of the birds, but the birds themselves. RAPTOR does everything in its power to heal and release the birds in it's care. But getting attached to any of them is a recipe for heartache. Many are released, and many of them die.
The best thing to focus on is how many are helped.
Now let's look at Lucy. That always makes me happy.

"I'm Lucy. Love me."
Now, anthropomorphism is something that we all engage in, whether it be our pets or the birds at our feeders. I know that animals don't think the way we do, but when I look at Lucy, I can almost hear her saying, "I'm a little nervous about you, but I will trust you, because I am one sweet damn bird."

You can see why Lucy became a program bird.
I call this her "Check, please!" pose.
And a giggle:


Now, that's my kind of company.