The Dirty Truths
Warning
Some of the contents of this article are graphic and may be difficult for some to view. This includes images and topics discussed. Please proceed at your own discretion.
I think it goes without saying that any job related to animals is likely a dirty one. In the case of wildlife rehabilitation, I have found it more often than not, you’re going to have your hands in some rather unpleasant matters. Both figuratively and literally. Like most jobs, you start at the bottom and work your way up. In rehab this means in the beginning you spend long hours scrubbing feces, dealing with laundry, dirty dishes, keeping the clinic clean, and so on. As time goes on, your inventory of dirty jobs expands. On top of the basic cleaning tasks, you may find yourself dealing with some horrific cases. Cars have a nasty habit of inflicting trauma that cause a lot of blood, or perhaps an animal has been dealing with an injury for a while and you need to remove maggots. Not to mention the array of smells you can encounter. It is not unheard of for some rehabbers to be able to diagnose an internal parasite based on the smell of their feces (a talent I sometimes wish I had).
In this radiograph, you can see where this bird suffered a dire amputation to the right leg and another injury on the left. This bird came in with these injuries, sustained from a lawnmower.
Meat that was collected from a deer that was donated. This is often a time-consuming and dirty job. On occasion, the meat is no good and all the work done feels for nothing.
While these are all tangible dirty jobs, there is also a more philosophical aspect of working in this field. A harsh reality for some, and a blessing to others. I am referring to the death of patients. While I hold the belief that it can be the best outcome for some patients, I know others will disagree with me. A lot of patients die naturally due to the severity of their injuries, or even the stress of being in captivity (this is a largely underdeveloped concept). In some cases, a patient may be euthanized. This is where opinions start to differ drastically among rehabbers and others in related fields.
I would like to preface this part of the article by stating that the decision to euthanize a patient is highly circumstantial and never made without careful consideration. There are many aspects that go into making this decision. The severity of the injury, track to recovery, comfort in captivity, prognosis, and so on. The decision is usually made in consultation with many individuals and should never be left to someone who is new to the field. Making the call to euthanize an animal is one that requires experience and adept knowledge of not only species but injuries and outcomes.
There is an additional decision that could be made after an animal dies naturally or is euthanized. That is food. This is a concept that many wouldn’t dare entertain. After all, we’re in this field because we care for these animals and want to show them as much love and respect as possible. With this concept in mind, using deceased patients as food for other animals can provide a more natural diet, enrichment, and reduce “waste”. This brings me to my next, and final, point.
That is burnout and compassion fatigue. These mental taxations are common for those in the caregiver field. They stem from being overworked and constant exposure to mentally straining conditions. Since nasty wounds and euthanasia cases are typically seen by veterinarians and more experienced rehabilitators, that becomes the majority of the patients they see. This imbalance hits hard in how one views their success in this field. It also has a toll on the natural empathy most in this field have.
To do this job, you always have to be prepared to get covered in feces. In this case, the white specs are from cleaning a flight enclosure that was housing a RTHA. From head to toe, I was covered.
A fawn with an abscess in her cheek, midway through debriding. The smell of this infection was foul and hearing this fawn cry when scared and in pain was difficult.
Studying compassion fatigue in wildlife rehabilitation and veterinary medicine is something I did in college, and continue to do now. My original study is on my website, as well as a compassion fatigue survey I specifically designed with wildlife rehabilitators in mind. It is a largely underdeveloped topic that I hope to expand on. If you are someone who works in wildlife rehabilitation, I encourage you to take a few minutes to complete the survey.
Additionally, knowing what recourses are available to you is vital in actually combating this mental health condition. For rehabilitators, creating “work hours” is important. It is difficult for a lot of wildlife rehabilitators to separate themselves from work, as a lot of rehabilitators operate out of their homes or on a small scale, where there are not many/any colleagues to distribute the workload. Setting aside time for yourself will help you mentally and physically recover, thus improving your performance.
Talking to others is something that can also go a long way. Whether it’s family, friends, a therapist, or others in the field who understand. Being able to vent to someone and gain perspective never hurts, no matter the context. Personally, I talk to my friends who also work in rehabilitation. I find it helps to express my struggles to someone who is likely going through or has been through similar struggles.
Getting back to creating a healthy work-life balance, having hobbies and other interests is also good. It gives you an outlet where you don’t need to be thinking about your job or patients. This is the reason I started Rodentia Resin. While it is inherently related to my job, creating jewelry gave me an outlet where I didn’t have to focus on my job directly. Writing articles is a little more involved, but it gives me a chance to be proud of our more extreme success stories, thus gaining a better sense of accomplishment in my job. While these are hobbies I share here, I have many others that are not related to wildlife at all.
