Creature comforts: A Snohomish-area woman's touch takes ailing animals back to nature.
Shirley Shumway christened her den a wildlife refuge the day a local veterinarian brought her three injured hawks.
Aware that Shumway had worked with animals, he thought she could help the three. He was right. Not long after, Shumway was able to release them back into the wild.
That was almost nine years ago. Since then, the Snohomish-area rambler that Shumway shares with her husband, Mike, has housed a wild-animal shelter.
On a recent afternoon, a wooden sign propped in the driveway directs visitors to enter Second Chance Wildlife Care Center through the garage, where another sign instructs guests to "please wipe paws and claws" before entering.
Inside, Shumway hunches over a baby robin barely visible in her cupped hand and dabs a topical antibiotic on a lesion. At 55, Shumway has spent the past 13 years caring for animals. But she's not a veterinarian. She started as a volunteer at Sarvey Wildlife Center near Arlington and within five years became its assistant director and later opened her own clinic.
The clinic is one of a handful in Snohomish County that accepts wild mammals, birds or reptiles that are ill, injured or orphaned. Worktables and cages crowd what used to be the den, while dozens of clear, plastic, terrariumlike containers on shelves provide temporary homes for convalescing small animals such as possums, rabbits and birds. Sliding-glass doors lead to the back yard, where many animals spend time getting reacquainted with nature.
On a top shelf, a large barred owl named Solstice glares down with dark, menacing eyes. Unfortunately, she can't back up the look.
"She ran into a brick wall on her maiden flight, and her wing was so damaged it couldn't be saved," Shumway said. "She was somewhere between the light and dark, you know, so I named her Solstice."
Shumway works closely with Dr. Steven Gowen, who owns Companion Pet Clinic in the Clearview area and is medical director for Second Chance.
The two facilities complement each other, Gowen said.
"(Shumway) is excellent at nursing animals back to health. I don't know anyone who is more committed than Shirley," Gowen said. "I don't think she ever sleeps."
If Gowen's conventional methods don't work, Shumway uses herbal remedies garnered from books and lessons from her grandmother while growing up in Germany.
'These animals are guideposts'
Animals turn up at Second Chance for many reasons. Some have had accidental encounters with humans or nature; others are victims of target practice or poisons. Cars and domestic animals injure wildlife; the numbers are highest April through August, during the birthing season. Many birds also have respiratory problems or viruses, Shumway said.
She recently performed a necropsy on a crow.
"His brain was literally mush," she said. "People are living in a dream world. What they don't understand is that these animals are guideposts. What happens to them will eventually happen to us."
The shelter aims to rehabilitate and reintroduce wildlife; those that can't survive in the wild become "permanents" at the clinic.
Shumway's philosophy is simple: "Do what mom does." She feeds the birds when they would normally eat in the wild; a white board charts the feeding schedule for volunteers.
A cedar-waxwing mother, she explains, feeds her young 90 percent protein until they get their feathers — then they switch to berries. Shumway often uses a commercial formula for hand-feeding baby birds, while older birds sometimes get a baby-food blend.
Shumway pays an assistant director but does not draw a salary herself. The assistant director's daughter volunteers, and Mike Shumway helps out when he's not working as a health inspector for the Snohomish Health District.
Edible fruits and berries abound in Shumway's manicured garden much of the year. Chickadees, jays and a magpie compete to fill the silence. Barn owls Buddy and Buddette (stowaways on hay trucks from Eastern Washington) test their wings in the flying area. Jay-Jay, a crested dark-blue Steller's jay, is the houseguest who won't leave. Even a bald eagle named Spirit occasionally swoops in for a visit.
Hundreds of patients
Shumway must submit year-end tallies of the animals she takes in to the state and federal fish-and-wildlife departments (at the federal level, the report focuses on migratory birds). Last year, the clinic cared for 830 animals; nearly half didn't survive.
The reports can help identify trends and monitor endangered or threatened species, said Peggy Crain, administrative-operations manager for the state Fish and Wildlife Department's Wildlife Program. Rehabilitators must obtain a permit from the state, something Sue Murphy, who runs Pilchuck Valley Wildlife Services on Camano Island, believes should be enhanced by additional regulation.
"A lot of people just hang out a shingle and do what they want," Murphy said. "There's a lot of responsibility that goes with being a wildlife rehabilitator."
Shumway said her work means savoring the successes.
"I usually know when an animal is going to die," Shumway said. "Sometimes I'll know when I get up in the morning, before I even walk in here, if one has died in the night.
"If I'm holding a bird, it will get really light right before it passes and its spirit goes."
She pointed to a baby robin in one of the terrariums: "This one is heavy. He's not going anywhere."
Lee Revere: snohomishcounty@seattletimes.com
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