Birds

Birds

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Alala Mom Shows How It’s Done

Po Mahina's chicks, 10 days after hatching, are still naked and blind and require constant care from their mother.

Po Mahina’s chicks, 10 days after hatching, are still naked and blind and require constant care from their mother.

A couple weeks ago, we announced that one of our alala, Po Mahina, had hatched three chicks (see Alala: Does Mother Know Best?) There was a great deal of excitement here at the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center during this milestone event. However, at the same time, we couldn’t help but be a little nervous. Would Po Mahina be able to feed and take care of these chicks all on her own?

Over the next few days, Po Mahina spent most of her time brooding her chicks, keeping them safe and warm. Alala chicks, like many bird species, are born naked and with their eyes closed. Watching on camera, we observed Po Mahina leaving the nest for short periods of time to bring food for the chicks. We provided her with the same types of food items that we feed the hand-raised alala chicks, which include an emphasis on animal protein to fuel growth (waxworms, crickets and chopped mice) as well as papaya and pellets. All three chicks would eagerly beg to be fed each time she returned to the nest.

Sadly, the youngest of the three chicks died after seven days. For the youngest chick to die in the nest is not an uncommon occurrence in the bird world. Frequently, older chicks have a couple of days’ head start to grow and beg for food, and they out-compete the youngest. Sometimes inexperienced parents may find a full nest of chicks challenging. It is almost certain that unfortunate occurrences such as this were normal for wild alala, particularly when food availability was limited in their environment. Whatever the cause, it was sad to witness the death of this chick. But we now know that we can comfortably inspect the chicks at five days old with minimal stress to the mother. This will, we hope, enable us to rescue a compromised chick and prevent this kind of mortality in the future.

The remaining two chicks are continuing to grow big and strong. When coming back after days off, we marvel at how quickly the chicks have grown and developed over only a few days. The chicks quickly went from naked baby birds to having sleek black-brown feathers, blue eyes, and a gray beak with a wide, pink gape. As the chicks’ feathers started to emerge, they were covered in a waxy, tubular coating called pin feathers. Po Mahina carefully preened away this waxy sheath to help her chicks’ new feathers unfurl.

Every five days we climb up a ladder and perform a quick nest check. The chicks are weighed to make sure they are following similar weight-gain patterns of the chicks that we hand raise. At the same time, we also give the chicks a quick health assessment. Each nest check takes less than 10 minutes, and afterward, we watch on camera as Po Mahina returns to the nest to make sure her chicks weren’t harmed.

At 20 days old, the chicks' feathers are starting to come in.

At 20 days old, the chicks’ feathers are starting to come in.

Something interesting that we noticed during our nest checks is the chicks’ response to humans. Unlike hand-raised birds, who get excited and beg to humans for food, these chicks are a bit nervous and frightened by our presence. They hunker down into the nest, trying to be as still and quiet as possible. Although we want to minimize stress to the chicks during the nest checks, their behavior is a good sign. We want the alala to grow up behaving like the ones in the wild did, suspicious and wary of humans or other potential predators. When we release alala into their natural habitat in the future, these predator-avoidance behaviors may give them a greater chance of surviving the wild.

Po Mahina is doing a great job raising these chicks. It seems that motherhood comes very naturally to her. By analyzing both her and the chicks’ behavior on camera, we have (and still are) learning a great deal from her about how we might expect alala to raise their young in the wild. This helps us understand how we may be able to monitor and manage wild nests as part of future recovery efforts.

We will continue to bring more updates on the chicks’ growth and progress. There is still much to learn about parent-rearing alala. Some questions that we eagerly await for answers are: When will Po Mahina’s chicks work up the courage to fledge out of the nest? How long will they depend on her to feed them? How will the chicks react toward their keepers when we come to service the aviary every day?

Amy Kuhar is a research associate at San Diego Zoo Global’s Keauhou Bird Conservation Center.

5

Condor Saticoy at Release Site

Condors Nechuwa, Sukilamu, and Saticoy take in the view.

Saticoy (far right) and his fellows are acclimating to their new home in the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge.

Some of our devoted condor fans have been asking about Saticoy, the California condor chick who hatched and was raised by his parents while on the San Diego Zoo Safari Park’s Condor Cam last year. For those who are new to Condor Cam, Saticoy is the older sibling to this year’s chick, Cuyamaca.

On April 11, Saticoy was transported to his release site with two other condors who hatched at the Safari Park last year, Nechuwa and Sukilamu. These three young males are being housed in the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge in a flight pen with a wonderful view of the quiet, wide-open spaces of the Refuge. Beautiful wildflowers growing all over the grassy, rolling hills lead to the canyons and mountains that provide prime condor nesting habitat. The Refuge is located just north of Santa Barbara in southern California’s Kern County.

The flight pen is visited by curious condor neighbors.

The flight pen acts as a hacking site, or a place where the young birds become familiar with their surroundings before they are released to the wild. They can acclimatize to the weather and wind. Also, there are 66 other condors flying free in this region, and many of them frequent the hillside where the flight pen is located. This allows the resident condors to meet the new, young release candidates; when the young birds are released, they won’t be complete strangers to the free-flying condors. When we put Saticoy (wearing wing tag #36), Nechuwa (wing tag #37), and Sukilamu (wing tag #43) in the flight pen, four wild condors were already watching from the outside, curious about their new neighbors.

Saticoy and his pen mates will stay in the flight pen through the summer. If all goes well, the field biologists will release them to the wild sometime in September, about 18 months after Saticoy’s hatch. As you can see, California condor development is a long and involved process!

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous post, Condor Chick: 1st Exam.

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New Condor Chick in Mexico

Here's a look at the first wild condor chick in Mexico this year!

Here’s a look at the first wild condor chick in Mexico this year!

The great gift of working at the California condor field station in Baja California, Mexico, is that every single day is a day spent with nature. A typical day starts with a 7 a.m. breakfast and a pot of coffee, just like any day in the city. Unlike the city, however, we have no commute in traffic, we don’t have the luxury of a hot shower every morning, and we never quite know what the Sierra San Pedro Martir has prepared for us each day.

Nature can be full of surprises. On our daily hike to check on the condors we may meet a coyote or mule deer, see new flowers in bloom, catch a glimpse of a mountain lion running in the distance, or disturb a flock of mountain quail into flight. It is now in late spring that we have to be very alert about forest fires. Often, we find our roads blocked with fallen pine trees.

Juan rappels to the condors' nest.

Juan rappels to the condors’ nest.

The morning of May 15, 2013, was such a day, and after navigating around a fallen tree, Juan Vargas and I started our way down the canyon to complete a nest inspection. We were carrying the climbing gear necessary to rappel close to the entrance of the condor nest. Just halfway along the route, we saw a fire northwest of the mountain, and looking to the horizon saw a second fire north of the first one, stronger and more threatening. The wind was bringing smoke to us. Immediately, we communicated by radio with the park rangers so they could give a call to the fire fighters.

The chick looks healthy and well cared for.

The chick looks healthy and well cared for.

Arriving at the edge of the cliff, Juan built the anchors and prepared the ropes to climb down to the nest. In our safety gear, we started to rappel in silence. As we approached the nest, adult male condor #269 came out from inside the cave to protect the nest from intruders. I moved toward the condor to distract him from Juan, who climbed into the cave to find a lovely, fluffy wild chick. A quick physical check was made to determine the chick was healthy and doing fine. The male condor was not happy, and despite my body blocking his view, he watched Juan through the space between my legs. In a rush, the aggressive condor pushed through my legs toward Juan to attack him. Juan was on his knees with his back facing the entrance of the cave, and luckily he heard my yelling and moved swiftly out of the condor’s reach Two years ago, Juan wasn’t that lucky—that same male condor pecked his behind!

Father condor keeps a wary eye on the researchers in his nest.

Father condor keeps a wary eye on the researchers in his nest.

With the adult male condor back in the nest, Juan and I worked quickly to install a remote camera with a motion sensor to capture the frequency of the parents’ entries to the nest. This will enable us to learn more about condor parental behavior in the wild.

On our way back to the field station, we could see the fires were under control. Exhausted, we returned like proud parents and celebrated our discovery of a new wild chick (#710). Two chicks hatched in the wild in 2012 have now fledged and are integrating well with the adult population in Baja California. This chick represents our third healthy living wild California condor offspring as well as the first chick of 2013.

Mohamed Saad is a field biologist with San Diego Zoo Global’s partner, COSTA SALVAjE.

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Alala: Does Mother Know Best?

Here is alala Pomahina's nest and two eggs.

These are two of the three eggs PoMahina was incubating; photo taken during one of several brief nest checks

Spring is the time of year when most birds are busy building nests, laying eggs, and raising hungry chicks. For the alala (Hawaiian crow), it has been more than 20 years since any members of the species have successfully raised their own young. Since its inception, the Hawaii Endangered Bird Conservation Program has focused on pulling eggs for artificial incubation and hand-raising chicks as a means of maximizing the reproductive success of the tiny alala population. However, this spring there is change and new hope in the air! We are happy, but cautious, to announce that we have a female alala showing promising indications of successfully rearing her chicks!

Pulling alala eggs from the parents’ nest and then placing the eggs in incubators enables us to closely monitor the conditions that would allow the best chances for the eggs to hatch. It also gives the female an opportunity to lay more eggs. Once the chicks hatch, they are hand-reared until they are old enough to feed themselves. These alala parent pairs have great genetic value because they only have a few or no offspring, meaning their genes are not well represented in our flock’s family tree.

Over the last 4 years we have raised 53 alala chicks, and at the start of the 2013 season, the population stood at 108 birds. Now that we have a solid footing in the recovery effort, we are focusing our effort on natural incubation and parent-rearing for a select few alala pairs. One of our more prolific females, PoMahina, comes from a well-represented genetic line and already has three surviving offspring in the flock. This gives us the rare luxury of being able to allow her the chance to parent-rear.

Not surprisingly there are many questions and concerns about whether alala will be able to take care of their own offspring. All 108 alala in existence have been hand-raised. It has been speculated that there could be learned behaviors and an alala “culture” that may have been handed down through the generations in the wild that has been lost. Two years ago, an alala egg was given to a female, shortly before hatch, for her to attempt to foster-parent rear the chick. The foster mother was seen on camera feeding and caring for the chick, but sadly, the chick died a few days later. Unfortunately, not much is known about how alala reproduced in the wild. It is crucial that we use opportunities like this to learn as much as we can about the monitoring and management of alala nests to give the species a greater chance of survival in the wild. With the first release of alala potentially planned for 2014, the timing could not be any better!

In early April, PoMahina laid three eggs, and after a brief nest check to the eggs, we confirmed that all three were fertile. After approximately 23 days of incubation, three tiny chicks hatched on April 30, May 1, and May 2. Keep visiting the Hawaiian Birds blog for our updates on how the parent-rearing process is going!

Amy Kuhar is a research associate at the San Diego Zoo’s Keauhou Bird Conservation Center in Hawaii. Read her previous post, Pizza for the Birds.

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Condor Chick: 1st Exam

Cuyamaca continues to thrive at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.

Cuyamaca continues to thrive at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park.

On Friday, May 10, our California condor chick Cuyamaca received its first health exam. We normally conduct this exam at around 45 days of age. The goal was to obtain a blood sample for our labs, administer a vaccine for West Nile virus, inject a microchip for identification, and weigh Cuyamaca, the chick who can be viewed on our popular Condor Cam.

The first step in this process is to separate the parents from the chick. Of course, father Sisquoc and mother Shatash don’t want any invaders in the nest and do their best to defend the chick and keep it safe, as all good parents do. Adjacent to the flight pen, we have a shift pen, used to safely and calmly move an animal from one area to another. We offer all of the condors’ diet in the shift pen, so Sisquoc and Shatash are very comfortable entering it for every meal. We shifted Sisquoc into the pen and kept him there until after the exam. From his shift pen, he cannot see the nest area, so he was unaware that we were even in his nest, thus keeping him very calm. He ate and waited patiently until he had access back into his flight pen.

Shatash was not shifted and was able to see us go into her nest. We posted one keeper in the nest entryway to keep Shatash out while another keeper entered the nest and covered little Cuyamaca with a towel. This is the first time that Cuyamaca had ever seen a person and thus was understandably nervous and defensive, hissing and lunging at the intruder. Once under the cover of the towel, Cuyamaca could not see and calmed down. The chick was then brought into the adjoining vestibule where our veterinarian staff was waiting.

First, the veterinarian obtained a blood sample from Cuyamaca’s leg. This sample is sent to the lab to make sure the chick is healthy. Also, our geneticists can determine if Cuyamaca is male or female from this sample.

Next, a vaccine for West Nile virus was administered. Then a microchip was injected under Cuyamaca’s skin. This chip is a form of identification. It’s the same kind of chip you can get for your dog or cat from your veterinarian. The veterinarian then gave a quick health assessment, checking Cuyamaca’s eyes, nares (nostrils), beak, feet, legs, wings, and abdomen. Lastly, we weighed Cuyamaca to make sure it was growing on schedule.

While the exam took place, a third keeper was able to enter the nest to clean the camera domes and make sure there were no hazards in the nest cavity. The whole exam, from capture to release, took approximately 15 minutes.

Once the exam was over, Cuyamaca was returned to the nest and Shatash was allowed to approach and check on her chick. As previously mentioned, Cuyamaca was rightfully disturbed by this process, despite our best intentions to minimize stress. Although we feel bad that Cuyamaca was so nervous, it is actually good for the chick to not be comfortable in our presence. We have to keep in mind that we don’t want Cuyamaca to become accustomed to or feel reassured by humans; we want it to be a wild condor, uninterested and wary of humans, so that it may someday fly free in California, Arizona, or Mexico. Condors that show an affinity for humans seldom survive in the wild.

For several minutes, Cuyamaca showed a defensive posture, hissing at everything it saw, even its mother. Shatash slowly approached her chick and nervously preened it, eventually soothing it. That is the reason we shifted only one parent; we wanted the other parent present to calm the chick after the exam. About 10 minutes later, Cuyamaca was showing proper begging behavior, resulting in a feeding session from Shatash. With everyone appearing calmer, Sisquoc was let out of his shift pen. Approximately 20 minutes after that, he also went in to feed Cuyamaca. If he was alerted to our presence and was upset, he would have immediately entered the nest to check on his chick.

So far, the health exam looks to have been successful. The blood work showed that Cuyamaca is healthy. The chick’s eyes and nares were clear, the feet, legs, and wings were solid, and vitality was very strong. Cuyamaca weighed 7.7 pounds (3.55 kilograms) and was approximately the size of a bowling ball. We have yet to receive the sex results from the Genetics Lab, but when we do, we’ll let you know if Cuyamaca is a male or a female.

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous post, Condor Chick Watching: Age 30 to 45 Days.

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A Closer Look at Burrowing Owls

Note the difference in coloration (female on left, male on right) with this burrowing owl pair.

Note the difference in coloration (female on left, male on right) with this burrowing owl pair.

For the past two years, our burrowing owl project has been focused on how to effectively relocate California ground squirrels to help re-engineer nonnative grasslands and make them more amenable to burrowing owls (see Burrowing Owls: Closer than You Think and Digging into Burrowing Owl Recovery). But this year, we get to take a closer look at the owls themselves. Don’t get me wrong, I love the squirrels (more than I ever thought I would), but I’m a bird biologist, so I’m really excited to start working directly with the burrowing owls!

Burrowing owls range widely across the western US and make use of a variety of “grassland” habitats, from open prairie to empty suburban lots to airports. But their populations are declining, mostly due to loss of habitat and eradication of the fossorial (digging) mammals that they depend on to build burrows. One solution is the installation of artificial burrows. However, artificial burrows are not self-sustaining like natural squirrel burrows and, although we know the owls use them, we don’t know how they compare to natural burrows.

A male burrowing owl guards his burrow entrance.

A male burrowing owl guards his burrow entrance.

This year, one of our main objectives is to compare reproductive output, food provisioning, and predation at natural versus artificial burrows, using camera traps and banding the birds to accomplish this. The camera traps allow us to see what is going on at the burrow while we aren’t there, and the banding allows us to identify each individual (see Bling with a Purpose).

At this point, the breeding season is in full swing. We are monitoring almost 30 nest burrows (both natural and artificial); this includes placing camera traps at about 20 of the burrows. We check on each burrow about once a week (we don’t want to visit too often and risk disturbing the birds) and do any camera trap maintenance needed, such as changing batteries and switching out the memory cards that contain our priceless data in the form of photographs. We also watch the birds from a distance to figure out what stage of the breeding season they are in—for me, this is the best part!

A camera trap photo shows a burrowing owl pair allopreening at their burrow entrance.

A camera trap photo shows a burrowing owl pair allopreening at their burrow entrance.

Over the last two months, we have been inventorying burrows and following their progression through the breeding season. On any given day, we head out to the field in the morning and work our way through our route for the day checking on each burrow as we go. When we arrive at a burrow, we observe from the truck (which acts as our blind) from a safe distance to see what is going on at the burrow. Early in the breeding season, we might see both parent birds or just the male standing guard at a burrow. In general, the males are lighter in color than the females, because they spend more time outside so the sun bleaches their feathers. As the breeding season progresses, the difference in plumage becomes more marked, as the males get more and more bleached. By the end of the summer, though, it can be hard to tell the males and females apart as both get bleached by the sun.

Two burrowing owl chicks rest at the burrow entrance while Mom stands guard. Camera trap photo.

Two burrowing owl chicks rest at the burrow entrance while Mom stands guard. Camera trap photo.

Once the pair has chosen their nest burrow, we usually only see the male of the pair; he is often standing watch over the burrow from nearby (often at the entrance of a satellite burrow where he spends much of his time—we call it the “man cave”). At this point, the female is spending most of her time in the burrow incubating the eggs. After about a month, the eggs hatch, and two weeks after that, the young start to come out to the burrow entrance. We usually do a quick examination of the photos in the field to help us determine if there are chicks present, but we also get good clues from the female’s behavior. If she is very protective of the burrow or stays very close to the burrow when we approach, it’s a safe bet that there are babies in the burrow.

Currently, we have nests in all different stages of breeding—some have pretty large chicks, some still have eggs, and some still seem to be deciding if they are even going to breed. In the coming weeks, we will band all of the owls from burrows that have camera traps, and over the next several months, we will pour over the hundreds of thousands of camera trap photos to catalogue how often prey was delivered to the burrow, what type of prey was brought, what types of predators come to the burrow, and other pertinent information. This is a huge undertaking, since we have almost 40 camera traps set up that can take over 30,000 pictures in one week alone! Any volunteers? Seriously, if you’re interested in helping, visit our volunteer page and sign up! Who wouldn’t want to spend their time looking at pictures of these adorable and comical little birds?!

Colleen Wisinski is a senior research technician for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

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A Dusty Day Off

Lauren is ready to plant mamane saplings.

Lauren is ready to plant mamane saplings.

My day off began before the sun had even given thought to rising. I suppose this is more normal to me, a young ornithologist, than to most others. I packed my bag, laced up my boots, and slipped out the door just as the first streaks of light graced the horizon; this day was to be dedicated to planting native trees on the high slopes of Hawaii’s Mauna Kea.

Historically, the yellow-flowered mamane tree used to be so abundant that an aerial view of Mauna Kea looked like a big yellow lei encircling the highest elevation of the peak. Unfortunately, this habitat has degraded to sparse grasslands in recent years. Mamane seeds are extremely toxic to most animals if ingested. Ironically enough, the seeds make up most of the critically endangered palila’s natural diet. Yellow headed and charismatic with a finch-like bill, the palila is one of the honeycreepers involved in the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center’s captive-breeding program. I have the privilege of seeing and working with these birds every day, and it was an honor to physically make a difference in the restoration of their natural habitat. In 2002, the Mauna Kea Forest Restoration Project began the task of reestablishing the mamane forests that once dominated the arid terrain of the mountainside, starting with the west and north slopes.

This particular morning, I met with the rest of the volunteers and headed up to the north slope site, Ka’ohe Restoration Area. The outreach coordinator, Jackson Bauer, gave us a detailed history of the mountain and forests, showing us native plants as we hiked around the area. We searched for what seemed in vain for wild palila. Suddenly, I heard it: churr-eep! My heart beating madly in my chest, I raced down the hill and around a cluster of mature mamane just as Jackson spotted it hopping from branch to branch. It watched us warily as it inspected each dangling flower and seedpod within reach. I was beyond thrilled to see one of our birds thriving in the wild, and it further instilled a sense of responsibility as to why I was there that day.

A'ali'i (pictured) and mamane saplings are carefully planted on Mauna Kea's slope.

A’ali’i (pictured) and mamane saplings are carefully planted on Mauna Kea’s slope.

After everyone settled down, we got down to business with the planting. We unloaded the eight-month old mamane and a’ali’i saplings, dibbles, and watering backpacks from the trucks and carried them to the plot. After a quick planting lesson, the group split easily into groups with distinct roles and set to work. Saplings were laid out in rows, and everyone worked in a leapfrog-like assembly line to dig holes, nestle the plants in the ground, and water each one carefully and efficiently. This was especially important to give them the best start in life on their own without the luxuries they had in the nursery.

With such a large group, we finished planting what we had brought much quicker than I expected. I wiped the sweat off my dirty face and admired the healthy 550 trees we had just planted. With a little time, they will become the native forest that once covered these mountainsides. With a little hope, they will become a sanctuary for the palila and other native animals dependent on this unique ecosystem.

For more information on restoration efforts, visit: facebook.com/MKFRP

Lauren Marks is an intern at the San Diego Zoo’s Keauhou Bird Conservation Center in Hawaii.

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“Fiddler on the Roof” Meets Conservation Biology

San Clemente Loggerhead Shrike

How does the busiest, most critical part of the year—the breeding season—even begin for the shrikes and staff of the San Clemente Loggerhead Shrike Breeding Program?

Since 1989, the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, in conjunction with the United States Navy, has been making great efforts to recover endangered San Clemente loggerhead shrikes by breeding them in aviaries and releasing juveniles into the wild. Because of the efforts of the Zoo, the Navy, and those of partner conservation organizations, this shrike subspecies, which occurs only on Navy-owned San Clemente Island off the coast of California, has increased from a population of 14 individual birds in 1998 to 65 breeding pairs in 2013. Although there is much work yet to be done, the recovery program’s success story is well known. But what exactly goes into such a project? More interestingly, what goes into the busiest, most critical part of the year for the program? How does the busiest, most critical part of the year—the breeding season—even begin for the shrikes and staff of the San Clemente Loggerhead Shrike Breeding Program?

The breeding effort begins in January, when we receive a very exciting document delivered by Tandora Grant, the San Clemente loggerhead shrike’s studbook keeper. It is her responsibility to use genetic and demographic statistics to determine which of our shrikes to breed each year. Two important factors that come into play during Tandora’s matchmaking are the representation of our birds’ genes in the wild population’s gene pool and each of our bird’s personal breeding history. It is vital to balance these two factors to maximize the positive impact our program has on the recovery of the shrike; too few juveniles to release at the end of the season results in a low probability of their surviving to breed the next year, but releasing many genetically invaluable juveniles is potentially detrimental to the recovery of the species. Think Fiddler on the Roof meets conservation biology; the document Tandora delivers is the year’s breeding recommendations, and it contains the season’s breeding pairs, whether the birds are happy with her choices or not! More often than not, the birds are happy, but the document also contains alternate pairings should any of the chosen shrikes display a lack of motivation when it comes time to court each other.

In the first week of February, after we have prepared the breeding aviaries for the upcoming season, the select females are moved into aviaries adjacent to their males in a logistics puzzle that has been appropriately named “The Big Move.” You can imagine how hard it is to place 12 to 15 specific pairs next to each other in appropriately outfitted breeding enclosures when we have a flock size of over 60 birds and a grand total of about 80 enclosures! Though it is sometimes difficult and requires lots of planning, a little bit of luck, and plenty of cooperation from the shrikes, The Big Move is important, because it is designed to imitate the natural movement of wild shrikes.

In the wild, male and female San Clemente loggerhead shrikes maintain exclusive and solitary winter territories; however, come breeding season, females leave their winter grounds to search for attractive mates. By moving a specific year’s breeding males into their breeding enclosures and the female’s into enclosures adjacent to their chosen mates, we aim to simulate the female’s discovery of her mate. Once the breeding pairs have been placed in their adjacent enclosures, they have entered the “pre-pair” phase of the breeding season. This is the time for the males to court the females by displaying, singing, nest building, and most importantly, feeding them lots of bugs! If all goes well, we will be able to move on to the next phase—pairing.

Henry Fandel is a research associate for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

1

Perfect Parrotbill Puppets

Click on the link to watch this parrotbill hatch.

Click on the link in the first paragraph to watch this kiwikiu (parrotbill) hatch.

The Maui Bird Conservation Center is pleased to announce the hatch of our second kiwikiu (Maui parrotbill) chick of the breeding season. The chick hatched on April 11 at 11 a.m., and I was lucky enough to see the chick hatching and took this short video clip: Kiwikiu (parrotbill) hatching.mov

The kiwikiu is an endangered, endemic Hawaiian honeycreeper only found in a small range on the eastern slopes of the Haleakala volcano on Maui. This species has been notoriously difficult to breed in captivity, but the Hawaii Endangered Bird Conservation Program has been having more luck in producing chicks in the last few years (see Raising Maui Parrotbills).

A puppet "parent" feeds the new kiwikiu.

A puppet “parent” feeds the new kiwikiu.

The kiwikiu is a very intelligent species, and we take many steps to keep the birds from imprinting onto humans. We use a hand puppet during feeds as soon as the young chick’s eyes start to open, and this year we thought it was time we “upgraded” our hand puppet.

At the Maui Bird Conservation Center’s Open House last November, I met a lovely local lady, Alyson Danford, who obviously has a real passion for the native wildlife of Hawaii. Alyson grew up on the Big Island of Hawaii but has now lived on Maui for more than 28 years. Alyson created a beautiful quilt of the kiwikiu among the native Acacia koa tree, and she donated this wonderful gift to our program during the open house. I immediately thought of Alyson about making the new hand puppet and contacted her about the project.

Alsyon stands in front of a quilt she made, inspired by the alala's hoped-for return to the wild.

Alyson stands in front of a quilt she made, inspired by the alala’s hoped-for return to the wild.

Alyson was very excited to help us even though she had never made anything like that before, and after a visit to our facility, she came up with two new hand puppets for our program! It was perfect timing when Alyson had the new puppets ready for our newly hatched chick.

We are extremely grateful to Alyson for donating her time and creativity to help us toward our mission of protecting the native birds of Hawaii. Alyson, Mahalo nui loa. Me ka aloha pumehana.

Amy Kilshaw is a research associate at the San Diego Zoo’s Maui Bird Conservation Center. Read her previous post, Nene Come Home.

3

Condor Chick Watching: Age 30 to 45 Days

Cuyamaca does some preening in the nest box.

Cuyamaca does some preening in the nest box.

At about one month of age, our California condor chick Cuyamaca (pronounced “Kwee-ah-MACK-ah” and meaning “through the clouds” in Kumeyaay), should weigh around 4.4 pounds (2 kilograms). The parents, Sisquoc and Shatash, may start leaving the chick alone overnight, sleeping near the nest. If the weather is still cool or it’s raining, they may continue to brood overnight until the weather improves. Even though the parents are increasing their time away from the chick, they remain VERY vigilant and protective of their nest and ESPECIALLY their chick. Some field biologists have even seen wild condor parents chasing black bears away from the nest area!

Up until now, the chick has been scooting around the nest on its tarsal joints. We refer to that as a tarsal crawl. It’s not uncommon, at this age, to see the chick standing all the way up on its feet, teetering around the nest, holding its wings out for balance. As its legs get sturdier, the chick may even approach the parent, begging for food. The wing-begging behavior we’ve been seeing will get more pronounced: lots of wing-flapping, head-bobbing, and trying to position itself in front of the parent.

It is possible that the parents, who are offering larger quantities of food per feeding session, might be providing a small amount of fur/hair in the chick’s diet. (Part of the adults’ diet includes mammals, like rats and rabbits.) Condors can digest just about every part of the animals they eat, except for fur. This fur accumulates in the digestive tract and is eventually regurgitated as waste. We refer to this as casting. A condor’s cast is composed of predominantly fur, whereas a cast from an owl has fur and bones; owls can’t digest bones, but condors can. We have seen condor chicks cast hair pellets as young as three weeks of age. When the chick casts, it throws its head forward several times, mouth open, until the pellet is ejected from its mouth. It can look like the chick is in trouble, but it is perfectly normal and good for the chick.

At around 45 days of age, Cuyamaca will get its first health exam. We will obtain a blood sample for the lab to make sure the chick is healthy and send a portion of this sample to a lab in the Genetics Division of the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research. From this blood sample, the geneticists can determine if Cuyamaca is male or female. Also during the exam, we will weigh Cuyamaca (the chick should weigh between 7.7 and 8.8 pounds or 3.5 and 4 kilograms), and we will inject a transponder chip as a form of identification. It’s the same kind of chip you can get for your dog or cat at the veterinarian. Most importantly, this exam allows us to administer a vaccine for West Nile virus, a disease that originated in Africa and was accidentally introduced to North America by humans. North American animals, including condors, usually don’t have a natural immune response to West Nile virus, so we are trying to give our chicks as much of a head start as we can.

This exam will be the first time that Cuyamaca will see humans, so it will naturally be disturbing for the chick. We try to be as quick as we can (9 to 10 minutes) to minimize the disturbance. Additionally, we will keep Cuyamaca covered with a towel to reduce its exposure to humans and to provide it a bit of security. Sisquoc and Shatash are usually away from the nest when we perform the procedure to keep them as calm as possible, as well. We have to keep in mind that we don’t want Cuyamaca to become accustomed to or feel reassured by our presence; we want it to be a wild condor, uninterested and wary of humans, so that it may someday fly free in California, Arizona, or Mexico.

Cuyamaca will look very large at this age compared to how big it was at hatch, but remember that it is still less than half of its adult weight. There is much more growth and fun to come on Condor Cam!

Ron Webb is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous post, Condor Chick Watching: Age 3 to 4 Weeks.