Far from its fledgling beginnings in the garage of a
caring wildlife rehabilitator, the Illinois Raptor Center has spread its
wings wide. Some 15 years later, the center reaches thousands every year
with its message of wildlife conservation.
Run by the dedicated duo of Jane Seitz, founder and
executive director; and Jacques Nuzzo, program director, the center is home
to more than 20 majestic but permanently injured birds of prey. Having
outgrown the garage, the IRC now nests on a 15-acre site among prairie,
pond, and forest habitat near Decatur.
Much like its feathered friends, the IRC has learned
to make the most of its strengths.
“Focusing on raptors is something we do
well,” Nuzzo says. (And there’s no denying that it’s
easier to persuade would-be donors with an elegant eagle than with
Illinois’ equally endangered eastern wood rat.)
The IRC has smoothed the ruffled feathers of an
amazing array of birds of prey: eagles, falcons, hawks, and the tiniest of
raptors, such as the Eastern screech owl with the haunting eyes. Though
raptors are the most common residents, they are joined by the occasional
songbird or mammal.
Collisions with cars or power lines and attacks by
predators are some of the unfortunate events that land animals in this
wildlife hospital. Volunteer veterinarians help mend the animals; minor
repairs and daily care are provided by Seitz and Nuzzo.
Years of experience in animal rehabilitation have led
the IRC staff to an interesting conclusion: The vast majority of wildlife
rescues — as many as 75 percent, they estimate — are
unnecessary. In response, the center has expanded its wingspan to include
education and public awareness.
Seitz and Nuzzo launched “Education on the
Wing” to heighten awareness of environmental conservation and bring
audiences face to feathered face with a range of riveting raptors. Golden
eagles, snowy owls, and red-tailed hawks are joined on occasion by the
turkey vulture, which is often mistaken for a raptor. The birds, whose
injuries prevent their return to the wild, seem quite comfortable in their
new role as wildlife ambassadors.
Last year alone, IRC staffers provided more than 100
programs, reaching more than 17,000 people with their humorous and
informative presentation. This feathered road show travels to the farthest
reaches of Illinois and occasionally across state borders.
The IRC’s most common audience is young
students, eager to learn facts that could stump many adults. Did you know,
for example, that the cheetah is somewhat sluggish compared with the
peregrine falcon, which dives on prey at speeds reaching 200 mph? Other fun
facts include the vulture’s vomitous defense and how a red-tailed
hawk is able to safely make a meal of a rattlesnake.
In an era when students are more likely to know
about the rainforests of the Amazon or the eating habits of the panda, the
IRC introduces them to wildlife closer to home.
“We try to open up a whole new world to these
kids — a world they can observe right in their own back yard,”
says Seitz.
Beyond these programs, the IRC staff views every phone
call from a would-be rescuer as an opportunity to educate. Before agreeing
to take an animal in, they inquire about its behavior and situation,
offering simple solutions and common-sense advice.
One rule of thumb: “If you have to chase it
down, it probably doesn’t need to be rescued,” says Seitz, only
half-joking.
She estimates that the staff makes as many as a dozen
such “silent saves” every day.
“We want to empower the public with information
so they can make a good decision,” says Seitz. “Through
education, we can help many more animals in the future.”
Though many rescues are unnecessary, it’s easy
for a novice to assume that a vulnerable-looking baby animal needs help.
Sadly, even animals truly in need of rehabilitation may stand less of a
chance of surviving when released back into the wild.
“We’re the last chance for most of these
animals, and it’s not a good chance,” Seitz says.
Solutions are seldom black-and-white. When it comes to
making decisions in the world of wildlife rehabilitation, shades of gray
are the norm.
The cost of treatment and the age of the animal are
factors, as is what to do with an animal once it recovers. Relocation can
be complicated when it comes to territorial species, some of which will
kill those new to the neighborhood. The IRC must also consider
nature’s delicate balance, including a habitat’s more
vulnerable species, when releasing potential predators back into the wild.
For example, an overabundance of raccoons in a habitat can wipe out the
area’s bird and turtle nests.
Then there are the times when no amount of money or
medical care will help a wounded animal. In those cases, offering a quick,
quiet death is the most merciful thing the IRC can do. It’s an
occupational hazard for rehabilitators, this familiarity with death.
“It can look cold-hearted, but you come to accept death,” says
Nuzzo.
“Sometimes there comes a point when you have to
give up,” says Seitz. “But we don’t view these animals as
throw-away life. We have to make a lot of tough decisions.”
More often, nature makes her own life-and-death
decisions, sometimes in the cruelest of ways. Consider the lovely female
mallard Seitz and Nuzzo nurtured for weeks before releasing her into a duck
pond, where she was promptly drowned by two overzealous male mallards.
Heartbreaking turns such as this one are part of a
wildlife rehabilitator’s life. Yet for every heartbreak there is
hope. The story of spirited Spud, for instance, could lift anyone’s
spirits.
Spud became part of the IRC family after a broken wing
suffered early in life left the great horned owl unable to fly. Despite
this handicap, Spud was later able to hold her own in a two-dog attack. In
fact, even while tethered in her mew, it appears that single-winged Spud
put an end to a canine rampage that cost the lives of several of the
center’s birds. Spud the survivor has a softer side, too. Though she
will never fly again, she now acts as surrogate mom to orphaned owls,
giving them a chance to spread their wings.
The everyday triumphs and tragedies at the IRC are
taken in stride by Seitz and Nuzzo. They try to keep their sights on what
they can do to protect more animals and teach people skills to help them
live peacefully with wildlife.
“We have an enthusiasm for sharing things with
other people,” says Nuzzo. “If we had unlimited resources, we
could conquer the world.”
Instead, as a private, nonprofit organization, they
face daily dilemmas as to where the center’s money will best serve
its mission. To stretch its limited funds, the center has even taken an
entrepreneurial turn.
An offshoot, Nuzzo Raptor Equipment, creates utility
hoods for zoos, nature centers, rehabilitators, and falconers around the
world. (The hoods are used to keep birds of prey calm when being handled.)
Wings Over Illinois, another of the center’s endeavors, offers
ceremonial dove releases for special occasions such as weddings and
Memorial Day ceremonies.
And so continues the evolution of the Illinois Raptor
Center. “If you stay the same, you’re not doing your
job,” says Seitz.
The job can be physically and emotionally draining.
With only two full-time staff members to provide daily care for the animals
and teach programs throughout the state, the days are long — 12 hours
are not uncommon — and holidays and vacations are few.
The job challenges notwithstanding, Seitz and Nuzzo
are clearly following their own nature as guardians of the environment.
Fifteen years of both setbacks and soaring have not dampened their
enthusiasm. It’s a good thing, too. From their bird’s-eye view
as nature’s caretakers, there is much work to be done.
To learn more, visit www.illinoisraptorcenter.org.
This article appears in Jul 14-20, 2005.
