I've got seriously mixed feelings about my busy seal weekend. I got a lot of sun and saw a lot of action, but my patients were nearly all depressing. We handled an unusual string of prolapses - generally caused by cancer, nearly always ending in euthanasia - interspersed with a handful of other graphic conditions. In a lot of ways, such a weekend is more satisfying, as these animals unquestionably needed my help. But it's hard to escape the lingering twinge of despair at their suffering.
On Saturday we shipped Attard, a leftover from Friday's shift and the first of our prolapse girls. Attard was apparently a pretty exciting rescue as she threw the net off her head with her teeth once or twice. (Usually it's the boys that figure that trick out.) Anyway, she was still a little scary in the morning, but she mellowed out some after her pain meds. In fact, she then refused to be boxed up, putting our early morning transport behind schedule. My driver left weeping as she knew the outcome for this animal was pretty much predetermined. Still, having helplessly watched the prolapse grow on the one we've been calling "
Prolapse Girl", I think Attard could be considered lucky.
After shipping Attard, we were called down to the drive on beach to rescue this little yearling we named Hole-In-One. He wasn't our original intended victim; he just happened to strand next to the seal that was first called in, another prolapse girl. She ended up being too alert to catch at the same time so it was lucky we had a spare to make our trip worthwhile. Hole-In-One was aptly named for the giant hole in between his shoulder blades which we're guessing used to be an abscess. Since he had full mobility and a decent body weight, we're hoping for a swift recovery.
Meanwhile, we got a call that a sea lion was drawing a crowd near Morro Rock. My transport drivers were just returning and one of my two seal rescuing neighbors agreed to go down and help out with the netting. I missed that rescue, but it sounds like another good one. Everyone came back wet and smiling. At 67 kg, Eisenburg was a worthy prize. Eisenburg's condition was more subtle than the others (if we weren't so certain of her gender we might have thought her prolapse was her package...) but the result was the same. I've actually learned she died on her own before they even had a chance to euthanize.
While we were preparing for a second transport (as we didn't have enough drugs to keep Eisenburg out of pain overnight), we got the call we'd been waiting for since June 23rd. Not everyone agrees, but I believe our next sea lion, Mamie, was our original "
Prolapse Girl." She was the right size (55 kg) in the right area (Cayucos) and her prolapsed parts were certainly the most advanced. Her location was not ideal (we had to haul her up a cliff and across a field) but we had a lot of men around for the rescue, so mostly all I had to do was supervise. I was surprised (and saddened) when I saw how easy it was to catch her. She'd been so net savvy before and now her spunk was gone. We gave her something for the pain and shipped her off immediately.
You might think Saturday was done after four animals, three rescues, and two transports. But then you would be wrong. At sunset it was back to Oceano for the prolapse girl we'd left behind that morning. She was still pretty skittish, but one of the State Parks plover monitors had noticed she did not fear his vehicle. He drove slowly up between her and the ocean, cutting off her egress while also concealing our net wielding volunteer. They named her Innovation, after this clever rescue technique (which we may likely employ again). I was too far away to make it to the beach in time so I waited in the parking lot to bring her back to site. The same neighbor who had bailed me out earlier with Eisenburg returned to help me with the after hours off loading and treatment. I kind of wish we'd stayed to give her some fluids as she had super gummy eyes in the morning, but we'd already had a 15 hour seal day and she was still pretty active that night.
First thing Sunday morning we shipped off Innovation and didn't even have time to clean her pen before we got the call on Chile Chavez, who we believe has a broken shoulder. You can't see the lumpy bumpy swollen parts in this picture (you're welcome), but you can tell he's got all his weight on the other flipper. He was a pretty easy capture (not wanting to move at all) and his condition merited yet another immediate transport. Vet staff haven't yet confirmed that his shoulder is broken, but if it's true, it's likely another death sentence. So I'm rooting for gnarly abscess.
Speaking of gnarly abscesses, just as we shipped off Chile Chavez, we got a call on this little yearling we named Tenera. You can see in this photo the hole in his side where his abscess used to be. It started out looking like a tumor on his shoulder and ended up looking like a saggy breast. After all the helplessness of the patients we had before him, it was really satisfying to watch the thick pink discharge pour out of him as we hosed him down. Tenera got some antibiotics and pain meds and proceeded to spend the night. He wasn't exactly chipper the next morning, but he was cooperative and significantly less purulent. We shipped him off after breakfast (his and ours) and though there are still a couple hours of daylight left, it's starting to feel safe to say that's the end of my busy seal weekend.
On Saturday we shipped Attard, a leftover from Friday's shift and the first of our prolapse girls. Attard was apparently a pretty exciting rescue as she threw the net off her head with her teeth once or twice. (Usually it's the boys that figure that trick out.) Anyway, she was still a little scary in the morning, but she mellowed out some after her pain meds. In fact, she then refused to be boxed up, putting our early morning transport behind schedule. My driver left weeping as she knew the outcome for this animal was pretty much predetermined. Still, having helplessly watched the prolapse grow on the one we've been calling "Prolapse Girl", I think Attard could be considered lucky.
After shipping Attard, we were called down to the drive on beach to rescue this little yearling we named Hole-In-One. He wasn't our original intended victim; he just happened to strand next to the seal that was first called in, another prolapse girl. She ended up being too alert to catch at the same time so it was lucky we had a spare to make our trip worthwhile. Hole-In-One was aptly named for the giant hole in between his shoulder blades which we're guessing used to be an abscess. Since he had full mobility and a decent body weight, we're hoping for a swift recovery.
Meanwhile, we got a call that a sea lion was drawing a crowd near Morro Rock. My transport drivers were just returning and one of my two seal rescuing neighbors agreed to go down and help out with the netting. I missed that rescue, but it sounds like another good one. Everyone came back wet and smiling. At 67 kg, Eisenburg was a worthy prize. Eisenburg's condition was more subtle than the others (if we weren't so certain of her gender we might have thought her prolapse was her package...) but the result was the same. I've actually learned she died on her own before they even had a chance to euthanize.
While we were preparing for a second transport (as we didn't have enough drugs to keep Eisenburg out of pain overnight), we got the call we'd been waiting for since June 23rd. Not everyone agrees, but I believe our next sea lion, Mamie, was our original "Prolapse Girl." She was the right size (55 kg) in the right area (Cayucos) and her prolapsed parts were certainly the most advanced. Her location was not ideal (we had to haul her up a cliff and across a field) but we had a lot of men around for the rescue, so mostly all I had to do was supervise. I was surprised (and saddened) when I saw how easy it was to catch her. She'd been so net savvy before and now her spunk was gone. We gave her something for the pain and shipped her off immediately.
You might think Saturday was done after four animals, three rescues, and two transports. But then you would be wrong. At sunset it was back to Oceano for the prolapse girl we'd left behind that morning. She was still pretty skittish, but one of the State Parks plover monitors had noticed she did not fear his vehicle. He drove slowly up between her and the ocean, cutting off her egress while also concealing our net wielding volunteer. They named her Innovation, after this clever rescue technique (which we may likely employ again). I was too far away to make it to the beach in time so I waited in the parking lot to bring her back to site. The same neighbor who had bailed me out earlier with Eisenburg returned to help me with the after hours off loading and treatment. I kind of wish we'd stayed to give her some fluids as she had super gummy eyes in the morning, but we'd already had a 15 hour seal day and she was still pretty active that night.
First thing Sunday morning we shipped off Innovation and didn't even have time to clean her pen before we got the call on Chile Chavez, who we believe has a broken shoulder. You can't see the lumpy bumpy swollen parts in this picture (you're welcome), but you can tell he's got all his weight on the other flipper. He was a pretty easy capture (not wanting to move at all) and his condition merited yet another immediate transport. Vet staff haven't yet confirmed that his shoulder is broken, but if it's true, it's likely another death sentence. So I'm rooting for gnarly abscess.
Speaking of gnarly abscesses, just as we shipped off Chile Chavez, we got a call on this little yearling we named Tenera. You can see in this photo the hole in his side where his abscess used to be. It started out looking like a tumor on his shoulder and ended up looking like a saggy breast. After all the helplessness of the patients we had before him, it was really satisfying to watch the thick pink discharge pour out of him as we hosed him down. Tenera got some antibiotics and pain meds and proceeded to spend the night. He wasn't exactly chipper the next morning, but he was cooperative and significantly less purulent. We shipped him off after breakfast (his and ours) and though there are still a couple hours of daylight left, it's starting to feel safe to say that's the end of my busy seal weekend.
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