The sheriff’s deputy saw the petite songbird slightly wobbling alone on the sidewalk on a weekday morning.
Sgt. Josh Bryant, with the DeSoto County Sheriff’s Office, and a buddy were chatting while walking out of a gym ready to tackle the workday when the avian creature caught their attention. Before parting ways, they crouched and examined the bird, concluding it was in shock from flying into a store window.
Both intended to leave the bird as it was, but its vulnerability nudged Bryant’s conscience, instinct and profession to help others, including if not especially animals.
He lives on a 200-acre farm, once his grandfather’s cattle ranch, where he tends to all kinds of animals big and small. That immersion has deepened his compassion for caretaking.
After contemplating the fowl’s plight for several seconds Bryant felt compelled to help. “The bird couldn’t fly away; it was not moving on,” he later recalled to the Mississippi Free Press. Something bad could have happened to it—a cat or something else might get it.”
Carefully collecting the bird and bringing it to his truck, Bryant scrolled the web on his iPhone seeking where or how to help it, as the frightened animal fluttered helplessly inside his vehicle.
A few hours later, Bryant received a guided tour of the Mississippi Wildlife Rehabilitation, Inc. from its executive director, Mykl Wallrath, after transferring the bird, a northern water thrush.
“I had heard of this place before, I can’t tell you when or from whom, but after a few calls I was connected,” Bryant said.
His discovery of MWR, located at Arkabutla Lake Reservoir in Coldwater, Mississippi, is a frequent narrative, Wallrath said.
Most are unaware of the nonprofit, while some have heard the name. But its emergency value has steadily gained local familiarity as nature meets man, or man meets nature, accelerates.
“This year we are on pace to see 1,000 patients, a new high. Last year we saw 800,” Wallrath said. “The majority of our patients are due to human interactions.”
Curious Neighbors
As new commercial and residential neighborhoods stretch beyond bustling DeSoto County into neighboring counties, the infusion of people and traffic on new roads carved into bubonic woodlands and around panoramic farmland has unintended consequences.
Suddenly, animals don’t know how to navigate their interrupted, native homes, and residents are unsure where to turn when animals become accidental victims.
Mississippi Wildlife Rehabilitation, founded in 1995 by volunteer Valery Smith, who died 2023, is headquartered in a circa-1940s U.S. Army Corps of Engineer’s administration building.
Inside and outside, MWR Wildlife Director Stephanie Hogan, one of just three federally licensed certified wildlife rehabilitators (via the International Wildlife Rehabilitation Council) in Mississippi, and a handful of volunteers provide limited first-aid care and committed rehab to a variety of birds, ranging from songbirds, robins, owls, falcons, hawks and others.
Mississippi kites, and their distinctive cackle, are a favorite patient, many on staff said.
Many guests are migratory or native. Few are non-indigenous. Another army of trained MWR volunteers across the area rescue the patients and/or bring them to their homes for extended care while they heal.
The Arkabutla location also provides rehab to a limited number and species of injured reptiles. Though MWR relies, when necessary, on the cooperation of a veterinarian in Collierville, Tennessee, one room resembles a veterinarian office on its own—sporting radiograph equipment to administer a CT scan, along with a patient’s table and a sedation apparatus when needed.
Recently, MWR harvested nine snapping turtle eggs from its mother—killed after a car struck it—hatching them from the facility’s incubator and then nursing them into adults before releasing eight into the wild.
MWR has an avian and reptile hotline to report injured birds and an active Facebook account; it stays busy.
“Calls can range from as many as 50 a day or none,” Wallrath said, and patients arrive as far away as Jackson, Starkville, eastern Arkansas and southwest Tennessee.
MWR is just one of three state-certified wildlife rehab facilities across Mississippi, and it has especially become an avian S.O.S. in the northern region of the Magnolia State.
The overwhelming number of injured birds arriving at MWR are victims of crashing into vehicles, Wallrath said.
‘He Acts Like a 2-Year-Old’
MWR relies on a few animal ambassadors for outreach. They are particularly popular among students, scouts and those at the wildlife rehab’s own summer camps, where children can learn about the animals as well as touch and feel them for effect.
To be a sanctioned wildlife rehab, MWR must adhere to a myriad of wildlife rules and guidelines from both state and federal wildlife regulations including the recently added Mississippi Department of Agriculture and Commerce.
As an example, box turtles instinctively never stray far from the area in which they were born. Because of this fact, regulations forbid wildlife rehabs like MWR to relocate box turtles back into the wild beyond a half-mile of their known original habitat. As such, when a woman brought a box turtle to MWR a few months ago, because they could not determine its home, the wildlife reserve by law had to keep the turtle on site. “It’s a long-term commitment,” Wallrath said.
One of MWR’s eight ambassadors is Cornelius, a corn snake. Dorian and Marcus, meanwhile, are both turtles. Then there’s Vinny, a raptor with a personality, volunteers said, and an eye-catching wingspan. Vinny joined the crew after some kids found a nest egg in the woods one day and placed it inside their home’s chicken incubator. When a raptor hatched instead of a chick, the surprised family found MWR, and Vinny found a home.
Wildlife Director Stephanie Hogan is the only one out of six bird handlers at MWR designated for Vinny. The process to forge a relationship with the animal—which, in Vinny’s case, meant teaching the bird to trust and obey its human caretakers and enabling it to overcome trepidations like crossing puddles of water or fallen leaves—is all part of Hogan’s quest to not just help animals, but to keep learning about how to help them.
“Vultures are easily frightened. He acts like a 2-year-old and keeps me on my toes,” she said.
Vinny, through Hogan’s influence, likes to collect sticks on regular treks. She often substitutes branches with paintbrushes for him to hold in his beak. That practice shrewdly shaped Vinny into a water-color artist, and he now regularly dabs hues onto canvases that MWR sells as a fundraising tool.
‘It Became Ordinary’
A regular volunteer and bird handler, Stephanie Allen saw a social-media post about MWR soon after she moved to the DeSoto County area three years ago. When she visited the facility to learn more about helping the organization, she discovered that many duties exclusively involved birds.
“My background is working and being around horses, but I learned I could apply my understanding of horses’ behavioral cues to adjust to helping birds,” Allen said.
The wildlife rehab relies on Allen to feed patients residing in wood-enclosed aviaries outside MWR’s building. Becoming equipped to aid animal patients’ demands can be a process, she said.
“You start just by being near (the animal), to sit down for long stretches and let it hear your voice again and again until it’s comfortable with you,” Allen explained.
One day Allen stepped inside an aviary to feed a red-tailed hawk named Hulk, who was overcoming head trauma after being hit by a truck. Visitors followed Allen inside, where Hulk was sheltering in the space’s corner.
“He’s feeling relaxed,” she told the visitors watching her feed the hawk worms. “Usually when he’s stressed, the two spikes on top of his head poke straight up.”
Wildlife Director Hogan then brought a barn owl named Athena, partially blind from an accident, outside her enclosure, which was next door to Hulk’s, for feeding.
Like Allen, Hogan herself became involved with MWR after moving to North Mississippi from out of town. She had discovered an injured baby bird nestling in her yard and began searching for rehab facilities near her home. Finding MWR led to her attending an event and deciding she wanted to help. She soon found herself volunteering 100 hours a week and caring for birds at her home, where her children were home-schooled.
“All the birds, (my family) eventually got used to it—it became ordinary,” Hogan said about her children’s reception to feathered guests.
‘They Want to Help, Too’
The seminal moment for Hogan occurred on New Year’s Eve, 2023, when someone spotted a down bald eagle on the Coldwater River. Volunteers raced to search and finally spotted the majestic bird on a small island in the river after dark.
“We knew it wouldn’t move because eagles don’t see well at night,” Hogan recalled.
At dawn she and a boater spent several wet hours trying to corral the resisting eagle, whom they named River, into the boat.
“River couldn’t fly, but could definitely swim,” Hogan reminisced about her plunge into frigid water to seize the injured creature.
With no veterinarians available on the holiday, the Memphis Zoo urgently welcomed River, treating the bird’s dislocated joints.
Hogan would later spend 11 months rehabbing River until she was healthy enough for MWR to release near the Coldwater River. For Hogan, the experience foreshadowed her subsequent relationships with all kinds of birds she now mends.
“When they are released, it’s like dropping your children off at college,” she said. “You are building to that day, you want it to happen, but it’s emotional to let go.”
The facility’s popularity serves as a double-edged sword for Hogan.
“I’m the kind of person who prefers—at least when I started out here—to work with animals and not people, but I‘ve learned that this role demands more of an interaction with people than it does with birds,” she said. “But I’ll say, the people who will drive several hours to bring me an injured bird—I’ve come to realize—are exactly the kind of caring people I want to meet. They want to help, too.”
Spreading Wings
Two years ago, MWR’s supporters decided to formalize a budget, hire Hogan and add Wallrath—who has a background working with zoos—as its executive director.
“At MWR, there is no such thing as a typical workday,” Wallrath said, referring to the unanticipated calls with patients, spontaneous connections, pursuit of donations and wide inquiries.
MWR financially operates entirely on donations. The Lucky Dog Pub Run, a St. Patrick’s Day event in March, and an annual golf tournament in September are its two primary fundraisers. The wildlife rehab’s single biggest expenditure annually is the approximately $10,000 spent on mice, deer, rabbit and other foods for the animals in the organization’s care.
“We do get a lot of help from hunters,” Wallrath noted.
Increasing outreach about MWR and educating the public on how to foster and attract wildlife are two of its missions. Beyond its summer camps—where kids are invited to pledge an oath not to toss food, not even banana peels, out of a car—MWR hosts workshops about native trees, DIY birdbaths, bluebird houses and other wildlife topics.
“We inform people on sustainable practices—both preventative and proactive—like providing food for birds through native plants they can grow in their backyards, as well as how to make simple impactful decisions,” Wallrath said.
“We’ve been brainwashed to have manicured yards, but not bagging leaves in the fall enriches the soil that becomes essential sources of food for caterpillars and then birds,” he explained. “These are conservation practices that ensure we are connected to nature.”
Hogan added that she receives calls from property owners asking for help to remove particular birds that have chosen their properties to nest.
“I spoke with a woman who wanted an owl removed,” Hogan recalled. “I asked her, ‘Do you have mosquitoes in your yard?’” The caller responded saying, “No,” to which Hogan replied with, “Well,” her voice trailing off as she recounted the story to the Mississippi Free Press. Hogan went on to explain the owl’s contribution to the ecosystem near her home.
The people behind MWR have initiated some long-term plans that have recently begun to take shape.
Students at the Tennessee College of Applied Technology built several specially designed raptor enclosures for the Arkabutla property that MWR will use to showcase the birds they are mending back to good health. The students constructed the enclosures at no charge, and volunteers transported them to MWR’s facility. The complementary assistance serves as a good example, Wallrath said, of the public’s response to support MWR’s objective.
Additional key plans for MWR include finishing the Valery E. Smith Nature Center, which the organization is moving forward with thanks to a $70,000 grant from Entergy. The center will feature raptor and native-plant gardens, a box turtle habitat and an interpretative center. Eventually, MWR hopes to build a new wildlife hospital and another nature center within the confines of a designated nature hiking trail area, also on the edge of Arkabulta Lake.
Sparky Flies
Diana Wilkerson’s personal stake with MWR’s mission is burnished in a moment of time tied to hollow grief.
One July day in 2004, Wilkerson and her sister Tricia Windland, next-door neighbors in Southaven, Mississippi, discovered a fledgling baby bird with a beak resembling a hawk behind their homes. Concerned it could be struck by a passing neighborhood car, both pursued the scurrying bird; eventually, Wilkerson gingerly wrapped it in a towel.
“Then is when I discovered I had no idea where or who to call,” she told the Mississippi Free Press. “A veterinarian or an animal shelter could not help.”
Frustrated, she googled other options, discovered MWR and called Hogan. A volunteer soon arrived and transported the bird, a Mississippi kite, into MWR’s care.
What happened next in their story morphed into a spiritual interlude, Wilkerson said.
Those at MWR—after feeding and performing a health check on the bird, which the sisters had named Sparky—returned the kite to a tree branch near where Wilkerson and Windland had found it. Ten minutes later, two adult birds circled the tree. One swooped down to roost next to the small bird, before encouraging the chick to fly with multiple lurches and falls along a series of branches.
When the baby fully ascended, it left the sisters feeling “like proud new moms,” Wilkerson said.
Inspired and impressed by MWR’s assistance, the two became avid supporters. Tragically, Windland died rather suddenly last March. The timing of the sisters’ interplay with Sparky, their MWR advocacy and her sister’s passing pressed Wilkerson to further dedicate and financially donate to MWR.
Wilkerson insists the events were not incidental. “I feel like I have to help MWR; it helps my heavy heart,” she said.
This year, she watched a kite soar into her backyard. “Sparky came back because he knew I needed to see him and to tell me himself that Tricia’s soaring high above me, too,” Wilkerson said.
To learn more about Mississippi Wildlife Rehabilitation or to become involved, visit mswildliferehab.org.