Until comparatively recently, there haven't been much in the way of studies examining the relative efficacy of rescue and rehabilitation efforts, but as more data come online, the results indicate exactly what many of us have long suspected: R&R consumes considerable resources and makes people feel good, but that's about the extent of it.
Some of the first rigorous attempts to assess the value of wildlife rehab emerged after the Exxon Valdez tanker ran aground off the coast of Alaska in March 1989, spilling 11 million gallons of oil into a pristine marine environment. Of 800 oiled birds that were cleaned after the spill, according to a 1996 study, most died an average of six days after they were released. At most, 10 per cent survived a month, says the study’s author Brian Sharp, formerly a wildlife ecologist with the US Fish and Wildlife Service, now semi-retired in Oregon. Another analyses found that two-thirds of sea otters, treated at a cost of more than $80,000 each, died within two years of release.
It's particularly grim in the case of oil spills because affected animals aren't just covered in the stuff, they're also inhaling toxic fumes and ingesting oil. That affects vital organs such as lungs, liver, kidneys - pretty much everything. And washing them clean with Dawn detergent isn't really going to address the issues.
But it's not just the victims of oil spills; deer, for example, have long been favored victims of rehabbers, due in large part to their cuteness factor. But the reality is that they fare no better upon release than the oiled animals:
Just two studies have looked at success rates among rehabilitated deer. One found that every single animal died within three months of release. In the other, just a small number of deer survived, and only by hanging around lawns and gardens.
With over 100 rehab facilities in the USA alone, it's finally being recognized that states need to set some ground rules even as they recognize the good intentions of the people involved. Naturally, the regulations vary by state, but most of them have "no-rehab" rules in place (in Oregon, it's illegal to attempt to rescue and rehab any non-native species, so starlings, etc. are out of luck - while North Dakota will not, under most circumstances, permit R&R of anything).
Cute birds and mammals get plenty of attention, even if they’re common squirrels, rabid raccoons or invasive foxes. But amphibians are in the midst of an extinction crisis. So where are all the frog-rehab centres?
Well, in point of fact, nobody does frog rehab - but in Oregon and Washington, captive propagation of native Spotted frogs has been going on for years; their main problem is the non-native bullfrog, so the native spotteds are raised until they're too large for a bullfrog's mouth, and then they're released back into suitable habitat.
We're fairly good at captive propagation, as the comeback of black-footed ferrets, California condors, and other species illustrate. Currently, even as those programs continue, we're achieving some success with frogs, native pond turtles, and even butterfly species.
But we suck at rehab. That leads to the question: is it better for organizations such as The Nature Conservancy to purchase ecosystems, or is it better to spend thousands - even hundreds of thousands - of dollars to rehab individual animals? I've done rehab work with raptors, harbor seals, and deer. And I've concluded that purchasing ecosystems is the way to go.
