To the Rescue

Bird chatter wakes me up most mornings at 4:30 — which is so annoying. Talk about early bird!

But it’s rare to hear them when I am just falling asleep. Last week, the birds on our property were chirping away at 10:30 at night. So, I Googled to find out why this happened.

There are many reasons, but I chose to see it as an omen.

The omen was a turtle.

Terry, my husband and pool boy, rescued a small turtle that he found on the steps of our pool. He scooped up the little guy out and put him into a glass container, where he swam around stretching his neck up and just being cute. We researched and identified him as a diamondback terrapin. They are friendly and sociable.

Terry was concerned about him and thought that maybe we should keep him. We admired the turtle’s spunk and handsome shell. I asked my animal lover husband if he had named him yet. He hadn’t, because it would be too hard to let him go.

Good thing. Online sources advised: “Don’t ever keep a wild turtle as a pet.” It’s illegal in New York. Plus, small turtles can carry salmonella bacteria.

We noticed that wherever we put him, the turtle turned to face in the direction of the pool. We decided to take him to our beach and release him. Wishing him well, we placed him at the water’s edge. He crawled quickly into the bay, where the tide moved him along.

We followed him, upset that he couldn’t negotiate the gentle waves. Afraid that he was easy prey for passing birds, Terry rescued him again.

We decided to take him to the animal rescue center in Hampton Bays in the morning.

Located just before the train trestle heading west in Hampton Bays is the Evelyn Alexander Wildlife Rescue Center. It’s adjacent to Sears Bellows County Park, and Bellows Pond, where my children used to ice skate.

We left Tommy Turtle — too late, I named him — in good hands. First, he would be dechlorinated, observed and then released in an appropriate place — not the farm or the sewer system, the final resting place of my childhood turtles.

This is an exciting year for the center. In addition to celebrating a 25th anniversary, they also just opened a seasonal East Hampton Triage Center, just off Route 114. It’s needed, because the traffic makes the distance a problem for East End wildlife in need of emergency care.

Kathleen Mulchay is the director of the center. She was generous with her time and happy to share information and stories. We spoke the day the triage opened. When I asked what else was she proud of, she said that they rescue around 2,400 animals a year. In late spring, they treat as many as 500 a day.

This is amazing, considering that they have a staff of 14 and four administrators. “Wow, how is that possible?” She laughed and mentioned 140 volunteers.

The most common calls are for raccoons. People tend to associate rabies with raccoons, but the current problem is distemper.

The most unusual rescue was when a beaver (they live in fresh water) that floated from an upstate stream into the Long Island Sound ended up on a beach on the North Fork.

The center receives calls from residents who are afraid that fawns have been deserted by their mothers. Because the young deer have no odor, they are safe while the does are gone from dawn to dusk. When I asked Kathleen if there’s a solution to the deer problem, she said, “No good answers.”

The most challenging rescue involved a Silka deer. Smaller than the whitetailed deer, they came from Asia 100 years ago. The deer had fallen through the ice. Kathleen sent me a video of the rescue. Volunteers used their paddles to break the ice and inched closer to the deer. They sedated it and pulled it out of the icy water into their boat. After being warmed and fed, it was released six days later.

A building at the center covered with silhouettes of birds in flight is where birds with wing injuries can be evaluated. They will be adding a soft ceiling made of plastic and mesh. Also in the works is a 50-foot-by-60-foot education building, where school programs and camps will be held.

Because of severe injuries or other conditions, there are 11 resident education animals, including my personal favorite, Vlad, a turkey vulture. When I was at the center, Archie, a screech owl who stands about 7 inches tall, was being walked on the shoulder of a volunteer. Allen McButterpants, a groundhog, waddled around entertaining a young boy.

I am planning to take my two youngest grandchildren there this summer, and I will be on the outlook for the programs they offer, which are free. Donations are welcome. The center receives no government funding.

Several years ago, an injured seagull landed in our pool. We had no clue what to do, so we called the Evelyn Alexander Wildlife Rescue Center, and two middle-aged women arrived with nets. I think I was more fascinated by the fact that they were twin sisters to remember how they did what they did. They still volunteer their time.

I asked Kathleen what she wishes for, she didn’t hesitate: “More volunteers.”

Wildlife was here first. It’s their land, too.