You can tell by the dark circles under my eyes that it has been a very busy time for Zapata Wildlife Rescue. The storms have kept us hopping and many little homeless, furred, feathered, and scaled have come to us for help. I have kept a daily reminder diary for the past 20 years and I must say it surely helps, as one grows older. Some call them menopausal moments, I just think they might be the old brain cells wearing out due to lack of sleep, or a combination of both.
The storm hit with a vengeance. The wind whirled around from all sides and the dust was blinding. The black clouds billowed up from all sides, as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. I was in the middle of evening feedings and was rushing about trying to batten down the hatches (a nautical term from my youth on my parent's sailboat). James, our son, had just arrived back from college and was on his two-week vacation before his summer session began.
As the storm increased in strength, I suddenly remembered the nest of Harris's hawk fledglings that was in a large tree near our workshop. This was the fourth nest of the released parent birds over the past two years. I called to James over the whirling winds and we rushed over to the tree.
As we gazed up at the nest full of three young hawklings the wind gained strength. We watched in horror as the nest was blown back and forth with tremendous violent force. The babies were holding on for dear life but they couldn't last much longer as pieces of nest flew past us.
James was half up the tree before I had cleared the last blast of dust from my eyes. He whipped back and forth in the wind holding on to the branches. I rushed to get a pet taxi to hold the three helpless hawks if we were able to rescue them. James had managed to catch one hawk as it fell and they were both hanging precariously in the increasing gale. I caught the hawk as he dropped it to me and shoved it in the pet taxi.
The youngest of the three hawks was still hanging upside down at the highest part of the tree, screaming in terror, while the eldest hawk had disappeared. The middle hawk was safely in the pet taxi. Lightening was still at a safe distance so we continued the rescue. James managed to reach the baby as he was about to fall. He passed the terrorized, screaming pile of fluff and feathers to me as the rain began to fall.
Two hawks rescued and one hawk missing. We madly searched the grass around the tree as the storm grew in strength. Lightening was getting too close for comfort and I was about to call off the rescue when I saw a dark hawk silhouette standing on the ground about 50 yards away. We circled and closed in for the capture, but the eldest of the three was a very good runner and gave us a workout before we were able to catch him and reunite him with his siblings. We rushed for cover as the sky opened up with some much-needed rain.
The morning after the storm was cool, clear, and beautiful. The hawks had spent the night in a large hospital cage at the rescue center. I was out at daybreak to assess the damages and look for the parent birds. Both parents and a few aunts and uncles were searching for the young ones as I inspected the tree. I wanted to return the hawklings to their family as soon as possible but also wanted to make sure they would be safe from predators during the night. An old nest from the previous year that had also been blown from the top branches still remained in the tree. I could just reach it from the top of a six-foot ladder. On examination it seemed sound and stable so I decided to give it a try.
The parent birds were still out scouring the surrounding area when I made my rush to replace the fledglings in the nest. The eldest two were frightened but quiet and fairly cooperative. The youngest hawk was submissive and very easy to handle. I placed all three in the nest, and as I backed down the ladder I was hit with a nice, warm, healthy hawk dropping that oozed slowly down the side of my face as I rushed off to watch from afar.
It took a few hours for the parents to return. The babies were silent and never called or made a sound until they actually saw mother hawk land in a near by tree. I had been doing the morning feedings and kept an eye out for their return. I breathed a sigh of relief as I watched both parents return to the lower nest and continue feeding their offspring.
All three Harris's hawks are now fledged and flying free with their family. The storm brought many new patients; some we were able to save and others who had spent too many hours or days without warmth or food we lost. The hawk rescue helped keep my morale up during the long days and nights that I spent trying to save some of the hopeless cases that have come to us since the storm.
Zapata Wildlife Rescue is a non-profit all volunteer organization that survives on donations alone. We do not get funding from any government agency but must meet with all their regulations and licensing laws. Your donations are desperately needed and appreciated. Please help!

(The Zapata Wildlife Rescue Center can be contacted by mail at 6812 STOP 68A, Zapata, TX 78076-2913, by phone at (956) 765-8526, or e-mail at dreams@zapata.border.net. Those interested in visiting should call ahead for directions.)