Euthanizing Wildlife at a Rescue Center 6-11-06 |
I was recently questioned about my list of self imposed standards for my rescue....the part about euthanizing wildlife that will never see another day of freedom. It's a hard thing to talk about, and even harder to accept being questioned. My first impulse is to get angry, but I have to remind myself that not everyone can see the whole picture, or has seen what I see every day.. When you look around my rescue clinic today, you will find the cute and cuddly..like the little beaver kits, a mewing, happy bobcat cub, mischievous raccoons...all in clean cages, fat, happy and thriving. Also getting the same level of perfect care and intense concern and attention are baby sparrows, an orphaned muscovy duckling, a chicken born with splay leg, skunk kittens, a coyote cub with mange. They don't have to be cute and cuddly to get my undivided care and the same standards as all other animals in my care. NOTHING is neglected or ignored. They all suffer the same and I work to keep them comfortable and as content as possible. Suffering comes in two forms here. Physical and mental. In the door, all animals are experiencing both of these. They are frightened, hurting, starving, orphaned, smells of predators, smells of humans...it is overwhelming for them. I work hard to get every animal accepting its predicament and whatever I must do for them to help them heal, but many never do. They live day to day, worried about what I will do to them, eating only to satisfy their miserable hunger pains, resting only after the sun goes down, the lights go out and the clinic is quiet. They feel trapped, and in many ways, they are. The only consolation I have for putting these animals through this is the hope of release. "Soon my darlings, soon...you will all be free again." I tell them this, but of course, Im reassuring myself. My compassion does not end at an empty stomach or open wound. I hurt for their mother who was forced to abandon her babies as the nest fell from the cut tree, I hurt for the doe who threw her body in front of the car so her fawn could safely cross the road, and I suffer with the owl who sits in a cage for weeks while the wing, so carefully cut from the barbed wire fence, cleaned and sewed, dies from loss of the blood supply and begins to rot off. I hurt for the fawn who lays in a traction sling and fights scours and bloat as I frantically try to keep it's injured spine straight and keep the baby eating so he will survive his own healing time, and I cry as I clean the rabbit, caught by a dog, who can no longer use his rear legs or clean himself, and as I gently wash him, his skin comes off, burned by urine and feces, and I salve and clean, only to find him much the same way the next time I check him, just a few hours later. Euthanasia ends suffering when suffering has no end. If all the animals were kept alive, then I would be turning away those who can be saved for lack of time, space and funds. If all that could heal but would never see release were found permanent, forever homes, than I would be shut down for breaking laws and violating the order and purpose of my permit, and the animals that can be saved would have nowhere to go. Am I selfish? Maybe. I am selfish for wanting to follow the laws that govern these animals and keep my rescue legal every day, my reputation as a professional intact and my standards for these animals as high as one woman can physically keep? Even more so, I am selfish for release. I release almost all of the animals that come here. I work hard, I go without sleep, and I spend whatever is needed. When I see death coming, and nothing to stop it, my heart turns away from selfishness. In agony I bring the end sooner and stop the pain, the suffering and the despair. I hate it. I have never put an animal down that I didnt suffer in their place. It is the only time I truly hate my job, my self imposed responsibility and obligations to these animals. It is the only time my hands betray everything I want to do for them. Euthanasia is a word with much stigma, and in most rescues such as shelters for domestics, it is the despair of animals being unwanted and holding no value. It makes me sick to think of so many precious souls sitting on death row, only hoping for a look, a glance, a person seeing something special in their eyes that makes them want them with them forever and ever. But with wildlife, no homes are needed. We don't have to find people, we only need perform miracles to achieve release. The pressure is astounding, but it doesnt scare me. I have angels that work in my clinic every day, and some days, they carry my charges to a better place. Once in awhile, I send them on their way. There is no pain and sorrow worse to bare for me. It is not giving up, it is giving in. I never give up and I am experienced enough to know when death will come no matter what I do, or a future has only bars and never a blue sky or freedom in the trees. There is nothing more depressing than a wild thing who has known freedom to give up. They die of depression. It is the saddest end I have ever witnessed. It is what motivates me to do what I hate doing the most. Thank God I only have to do it a few time a year. Many people ask me how I can possibly raise these babies and turn them lose alone to fend for themselves. Sure, it seems hard, but when you hate cages as much as I do, and as much as they do, release is easy to imagine and it is my ultimate goal. Miserable in a cage for the rest of their life...well that's something that horrifies me even more than euthanasia. I will give them their freedom one way or the other and challenge anyone who insinuates for a second that I end their life for lack of trying or caring. Precisely the opposite. I find the guts because I care for them more than myself. It's much much easier to keep an animal alive than to take it's life, at least for me. Annette King Tucker |
