Searching a large, dark, cluttered closet for a screech owl, while a Mississippi kite perches overhead, watching, and calling-out impatiently for someone to bring it its mouse dinner.
"Do you know anyone who can get me some moles?"
"Nope. Want a shrew? I also have a beaver."
Balancing thirty-plus feet in the air on a ten-foot ladder standing in the upraised bucket-loader of a tractor, trying to insert an enraged barn owl into a nest box.
"We mounted that one a little high. Careful, now."
Just a few of the situations that confront people who have wildlife rehabilitators for friends.
Of course, those're nothing compared to the stories the rehabbers, themselves, could tell you.
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