Freezing cow’s blood into ice blocks, wearing scented animal masks during feedings, wrapping dead mice in corn husks. It’s all in a day’s work at the San Diego Humane Society’s Ramona Wildlife Center, where staff work to get orphaned or injured animals back home in the wild. The staff want to ensure the animals heal and develop, while not getting them too accustomed to human interaction. It’s a delicate balance that calls for unconventional methods. Approximately a dozen staff and a village of students and volunteers raise everything from raccoons to birds of prey to mountain lions, with roughly 1,000 animals coming through the 13-acre site annually, according to Autumn Nelson, wildlife operations manager at the center. They even have a beloved hippo. A baby raccoon peeks out from a hammock at the San Diego Humane Society’s Ramona Wildlife Center on Sept. 4 in Ramona. (Meg McLaughlin / The San Diego Union-Tribune) The Ramona Wildlife Center — formerly known as the Fund for Animals Wildlife Center — was folded into the San Diego Humane Society’s Project Wildlife program in 2020, and it is a rarity in the state of California. The grant- and donation-funded facility is one of four centers licensed to rehabilitate wild bears in the state and one of only two in California to work with mountain lions. The extreme measures taken by staff to rehabilitate these animals are one reason why. Most animals are brought in after suffering traumatic incidents, such as being hit by cars or being abandoned by their parents. Nelson said the animals can come from a variety of sources, including private owners relinquishing control of the animals, homeowners finding babies orphaned underneath their porch or other rescue organizations bringing the animal in knowing the center is equipped to treat it. The staff then work with government agencies and other experts to determine which animals should return to their native habitats. For those animals deemed to be good candidates, getting them ready to return home can take months. And creativity. Last week, one of the center’s rooms housed two groups of young orphaned raccoons, kept in large cages complete with a hammock and shelter. One tiny family — rescued in the last few weeks and nicknamed after members of the legendary 1960s Rolling Stones rock band — cuddled with one another while peering over the edge of their suspended fabric. Senior wildlife rehabilitation specialist Rachel Duckett wrapped herself in a medical gown and gloves before reaching into the cage to handle any of the baby raccoons — not to protect herself but rather to protect them from her human smell. Staffers take steps to keep the animals from growing accustomed to the scent of people. Rachel Duckett, senior wildlife rehabilitation specialist, bottle feeds a baby raccoon. (Meg McLaughlin / The San Diego Union-Tribune) Duckett plucked out one of the babies, who screeched for siblings until it took the bottle she offered, wrapping its paws around it and slurping big gulps. After being weaned off bottles in the coming weeks, the raccoons will be taken to live in an outdoor enclosure with other furry members of their kind. Currently, the center is caring for six raccoons in its nursery and have 60 others in outside enclosures. Sometimes caretakers will take the extra step of rubbing a donated fur coat against an animal’s bedding to get its scent, then wearing it while feeding a little one — hopefully leaving the impression that the food is coming from its biological mom. To help with the illusion, the caretakers even don realistic masks to look like the animal’s mother. Nelson says they buy the masks from costume suppliers on Amazon. Sometimes caregivers will wear camouflage suits when they enter the cages, and sometimes simply distracting the animal is enough for them to avoid having direct interaction with a staff member. It works for other animals too, such as skunks and opossums. Stacey Richason, senior wildlife rehabilitation specialist, sits with Brawley, a coyote, at the San Diego Humane Society’s Ramona Wildlife Center. (Meg McLaughlin / The San Diego Union-Tribune) For nine coyote pups that were released back into the wild last month, staff dressed up in coyote masks and fur coats and sprayed themselves and the den with urine from other coyotes to feed them. They also attempt to imitate the coyotes’ natural environment by allowing them to “forage” for food. Kelly Wallace, another senior wildlife rehabilitation specialist, will hide bones in cages, tuck away mealworms in patches of grass or wrap dead mice in corn husks. Last week, she stuffed rodents into large vegetables or gourds for them to forage. “We do this throughout the week too, but on Wednesdays, we really focus on forage day, which means they get a little less protein and they get more foraging items,” said Wallace. “We kind of try to give them realistic little setups.” Cows’ blood — donated by a local butcher shop and frozen in ice — can entertain the animals while keeping them cool during hot summer months. The red ice is dropped into the cages of animals to play with — to paw at, try to eat or lick. For the staff, the hard work and innovative methods pay off when they get to enjoy the final step of their job: saying goodbye to their furry wards once they return to the wild. “Rehabilitating animals can be very challenging and rewarding all at the same time,” Nelson said. “It’s heartwarming and fulfilling to watch the wildlife return to their natural habitat after all the hard work our team puts into their care.” In recent months, the wildlife center has helped return numerous animals to their natural habitats, including those coyote pups and two orphaned black bears in May. Hannah Shirley, a 50-year-old pygmy hippo, rests in the water at the San Diego Humane Society’s Ramona Wildlife Center. (Meg McLaughlin / The San Diego Union-Tribune) Goodwill ambassadors Sometimes, despite all the efforts, animals can’t be released back into the wild due to how accustomed they’ve already become to humans or because the experts who have been observing their behavior decided they wouldn’t survive on their own in the wild. An option for these animals becomes an “ambassadorship” — a long-term, and sometimes permanent, stay on the property. About 18 animals at the wildlife project remain on the site, and some even travel with their keepers into the public to educate kids and residents about good stewardship and wild animals. One such ambassador, a 50-year-old pygmy hippopotamus named Hannah Shirley, is the oldest pygmy hippo living in the United States and was rescued from a private owner in Escondido two decades ago. During that time, she has enjoyed her two pools at the center and a diet of fruits and vegetables that are oftentimes grown on-site. She has served as a cautionary warning for unqualified, exotic animal ownership, Nelson said. Another ambassador, Brawley, a 6-year-old coyote, has become accustomed to her new home. Stacey Richason, a senior wildlife rehabilitation specialist at the center, has overseen her care since she arrived at the center as a pup. A group of young raccoons at The San Diego Humane Society’s Ramona Wildlife Center. (Meg McLaughlin / The San Diego Union-Tribune) The coyote behaves almost like a household dog, chasing balls, enjoying scratches and “shaking” paw-to-hand with Richason. However, some wild animal tendencies still stand out, with Brawley providing friendly nips to Richason at times and still regularly snacking on raw meat. Richason said Brawley is a reminder for those who visit the center or meet her in public that coyotes provide many benefits, such as controlling rodent populations like mice, rats and rabbits. But because of potential conflict due to property damage, loss of pets or small livestock, or a coyote losing its natural fear of humans, the animal can be at risk in the wild. “People on the public tours come in sometimes hating coyotes because maybe they lost a pet or something,” Nelson said. “But then they see Brawley, make a connection, and they’re like ‘Oh, I’ve never looked at them that way before’ and see how unique they are.” The majority of the animals that come into the center’s care are due to human-wildlife conflict issues, such as vehicle strikes, altercations with domestic pets, mange from rodenticides and trapping. “As we humans continue to expand into wild places, our wildlife are forced to adapt to less space, which, in turn, means a lack of resources, such as food and shelter,” Nelson said. “It’s a lot of work,” she added. “But the animals are adaptable to change, and the more humans expand into wild spaces, the more they figure out how to exist and thrive.”