One Hatchling, A Vaccine, and Hope for the Future

Summary: Join Cheryl and Kiersten for a true story of love and struggle in the time of the bird flu.

 

For our hearing-impaired listeners, a transcript of this podcast follows the show notes on Podbean.

 

Show Notes:

“Special Delivery,” by Zoe Grueskin, Audubon Magazine Fall 2023, pages 20-27

           

Transcript:

Cheryl Intro:

            The Arizona’s flock of southwest condors is about 115 birds. These birds roost and roam from the Grand Canyon to Zion National Park.  Each bird has a number and most have GPS or a radio tracker so that they may be found if injured or otherwise in need.  The spring of 2023 the avian influenza hit the state’s flock of condors killing 21 of these iconic, endangered species.  (We have a podcast highlighting the California Condor that was carefully researched by Kiersten, so we are not going to go into the detail descriptions or other details about this bird.) We are going to move forward with our story.

            Kiersten:

            One of the condors lost this past spring was 316.  A 20-year-old female who had succumbed to the avian influenza shortly after laying her egg on a high cliff edge.  The egg was being cared for by her mate 680, a 10-year-old male.  The odds were against this young male of successfully hatching let alone raising his offspring to young adulthood, especially since the space it inhabited was probably infected with the virus, and biologists didn’t know if the chick inside the egg had the avian flu.  So, to save the life of the young male 680, conservation biologists climbed that very high cliff and carefully collected the egg.

            Cheryl:

            Once the gg was safely transported down off the cliff’s edge it was taken Liberty Wildlife Rehabilitation Center.  The clinic staff typically treat a couple of condors a year, usually for lead poisoning.  Veterinary staff had little hope for 316’s chick at first.  It had been three weeks since 316 had perished, and 680 had been incubating the egg alone.  Usually, parents alternate egg sitting duties to maintain a consistent warm temperature for the egg, and to keep each parent healthy.  So, the veterinary staff “candled” the egg, illuminating the contents with a bright light.   They were looking for blood vessels, or an embryo-any signs of life.  What appeared in the rosy glow of the egg’s interior was an embryo that was moving.

            Kiersten:

            Now, caring for an unhatched chick is round-the-clock work, an all-hands-on deck operation. Condor’s egg is about the size of a soft ball, and was too big for the clinic’s brooder, which will mechanically mimic how adult birds shift their eggs in the nest.  Instead, staff gently rotated it four times a day and carefully monitored its development.  In May, the chick started hatching but it was pipping at the end of the egg -not the center-the avian version of a breech baby.  To survive its eggshell birth, the bird needed assistance.  So, using surgical pliers pieces of the shell were carefully, and quickly removed to free the tiny condor.  The hatchling was alive, but its fate was uncertain since it was not known if it was infected with the flu.  If infected with the flu the chick could not be transferred to the captive breeding facility, a critical step if this chick was to be released into the wild one day.  If it had the flu the baby condor would be dead within a week.

            Cheryl:

            Avian flu has been around for centuries, but in recent decades the virus has evolved to become lethal to wild birds as well as domesticated poultry.  A mild version, called low pathogenic avian influenza, is present year-around in some species, particularly in waterfowl, and typically doesn’t cause serious illness.  But the virus can travel through waste, infect farmed birds, and mutate into a more aggressive form.  The highly pathogenic