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Cottontail Cottage Wildlife Rehab, Port Chester, NY (2025)

11/24/2025

If people saw bats the way I do, their whole world would shift.

We grow up with these stories in our heads. Bats are scary, they swoop, they swarm, they’re something to run from. But the truth is most people never see them up close… never see the tiny eyes looking back at you… never realize how delicate and gentle they actually are.

When you work with them the way licensed rehabbers do, all the old ideas fall away. You see this tiny life doing everything it can to survive in a world that already decided it was a monster. You see beauty where fear used to be and you start to wonder how we got it so wrong for so long.

Bats are essential to our ecosystems. They protect crops, they reduce pests, they keep entire environments in balance. They help us far more than we ever help them, and most people don’t even know it.

And the truth is, our bat program is one of the things we spend the most money on, even though it almost never receives donations. People tend to give to the sweet faces they already understand, and we’re grateful for every bit of that support. Those gifts are what allow us to care for the animals who don’t get the same love. The quiet ones. The overlooked ones. The ones who never get the spotlight but still deserve safety, compassion, and a chance.

We don’t choose who deserves care based on popularity. Every life that comes through our doors is worthy, Bats included.

Maybe if more people saw them the way we do… their whole world would shift too.

11/18/2025

He asked me if I was afraid of the coyote. I looked up and said no without even thinking. I’ve never had a coyote try to hurt me. Not once. Even when I walk into their space as a human who is bigger, louder, and capable of doing far more harm than they ever would choose to do.

Coyotes already know people aren’t always safe. They have learned that through pain and loss and instinct. And still, when they see me, they choose caution instead of cruelty, space instead of violence. There is something so deeply humbling about that.

I have never felt truly threatened by an animal. They bite when they are grabbed. They defend themselves when they are scared or cornered. But there is no hatred behind it. There is no “wanting to hurt.”
There is only survival.
There is only fear.
There is only life trying to stay alive.

We treat so many coyotes in our mange program who are barely surviving, this sad looking guy is one of the lucky ones who we helped (check the comments for his amazing after photo). Mange starts with microscopic mites, but the reason those mites take over is because rodenticides in our communities weaken a coyote’s immune system until they can’t fight them off. A healthy coyote can recover, a poisoned one cannot.

By the time they reach us, they are starving and cold and so exhausted they can’t hunt. When they end up near homes or trash or people, it is not because they are bold or dangerous. It is because they are dying.

Helping them heal keeps them wild where they belong.
It keeps our neighborhoods safer.
And it protects an animal who quietly holds our ecosystem together by keeping rodent populations in check.

What breaks me open every single time is how much gentleness they still carry. Coyotes love their families. They raise their pups with tenderness. They know the land the way we know the inside of our own homes. They try to live quietly in a world that gives them less and less room.

I think we would be better humans if we learned from them.
If we remembered how to coexist.
If we treated others with the same gentleness they show despite everything they’ve been through.

They are not the monsters people imagine.
They are tired.
They are hurting.
They are trying to survive.

And somehow, even in all of that, they are still capable of more softness and patience than most people ever show each other.

Coyotes are not here to hurt us.
But they might have something to teach us.
If we slow down long enough to listen.

11/09/2025

“You’re too soft.”
“You care too much.”
“You need to toughen up.”

I’ve heard those words my whole life.

And I get it, maybe to some people caring deeply looks like weakness. But I’ve crawled into a den of wolves. I’ve sedated a bear on a freezing morning. I’ve held dying animals in my arms and still shown up the next day to do it again.

So if that’s what “too soft” looks like, I’ll take it.

Because caring takes courage. Loving something small and fragile in a world that often rewards indifference, that’s real strength.

To anyone who’s ever been told they love animals too much. Who’s pulled over on the side of the road to help a hurt rabbit. Who’s cried when an animal suffered. You’re not weak. You’re brave. You’re doing what others won’t and that says everything about you.

Kindness isn’t weakness.
It’s the hardest, strongest, most defiant thing you can be.

They said I cared too much.
Maybe they were right.
And maybe that’s my greatest strength. 🤍

11/08/2025

“How could you move on so quickly?”
Someone said that when I posted about adopting our new puppy. The truth is, I haven’t moved on at all.

A little less than a month ago, everything changed. I lost my rabbit, Sylvie and then my two senior dogs, Jasmine and Wyatt, a week apart. They’d been with me for so long that the house felt different, quiet in a way I can’t explain.

Caring for aging animals is a privilege. It’s messy, exhausting, and beautiful. I sat with each of them and told them how much I loved them as they took their final breaths, feeling heartbreak and peace at the same time. They taught me patience, forgiveness, and what it means to show up for someone you love, even when it hurts.

Grief feels like a heavy necklace around my neck. It doesn’t go away, but I’m learning how to live with its weight. Maybe that’s what love becomes after loss, something you carry instead of something you hold.

When the quiet became too much, and I saw the sadness in my husband’s eyes, I knew I wasn’t ready to stop loving. So I searched Petfinder and there was Albi, a tiny Papillon Corgi mix with a big smile and his tongue sticking out and it felt like joy somehow found its way back to us.

He’s not a replacement. He’s a reminder that love doesn’t disappear when someone’s gone. It changes shape and sometimes, it comes back to you in a ten-pound body with big ears and a happy heart.

🤍

11/07/2025

Yes, that’s a deer in a sweater…

When this photo came through our hotline, I honestly thought I was seeing things. A deer… wearing a sweater.

At first, I laughed. I needed that laugh, it was the day after our sweet Sylvie passed away and for a moment the absurdity felt like the universe sending me a tiny bit of comfort through the heartbreak.

But when Meg, our hotline manager, went out and found him still wearing the sweater, in 80-degree weather, the laughter stopped.

Because this wasn’t a joke. It was a tragedy.

Someone had “rescued” him as a baby, thinking his mother had abandoned him. Instead of calling a licensed wildlife rehab, they raised him themselves. Fed him, handled him, let him believe humans were his herd.

And when a wild animal forgets how to be wild, it rarely ends well.

Once his antlers come in, this young buck would have become dangerous to people and likely would’ve been killed. Alone, without a herd or instincts to guide him, his chances of survival were nearly zero.

With the help of our friend Patrick at Animal Nation, we were able to safely capture him and he was taken to their facility where he joined a herd, quickly wilded up and was able to be released back into the wild. It’s the best outcome we could have hoped for and we’re so thankful to Animal Nation for helping him get a real second chance.

So yes, the deer in the sweater made us laugh. But he also broke our hearts.
Because love without knowledge can do harm and the kindest thing you can do for wildlife is let them stay wild.

(And for the record… it was definitely not sweater weather.)

10/08/2025

I’ve been quiet here lately, and I want to be honest about why.

I’m grieving.

Sylvie passed away. She wasn’t “just a bunny.” She was my friend, my companion, my baby, and the heartbeat of this little rescue. Every single day for the last two years, she was by my side. When I worked late, she was there. When I cried over an injured animal, she was there. When life felt heavy, she reminded me what love looks like in its purest form, gentle, patient and without conditions.

Two years ago, someone found Sylvie on the side of the road eating pizza crusts. She came to us through our wildlife hotline, and somehow, in that moment, both of our lives changed. She went from surviving on scraps to running the show as our “rehab manager,” greeting every volunteer, inspecting every hay pile, and demanding her morning greens like clockwork.

A month ago, we found out she was sick. My world fell apart. I stopped posting because I didn’t know how to keep talking about our life-saving work while losing the little soul who inspired me to do it. I ordered her a bunny cake for her birthday, but it didn’t arrive in time. I wish I’d ordered it sooner. She loved our little celebrations, the hats, the decorations, the ridiculous photo shoots. She deserved one more party just for her.

Losing her has left a void I can’t describe. The silence in the rehab feels deafening without her tiny feet, her nose nudges, her soft presence that somehow made everything okay.

I’m trying to channel this grief into doing good, saving more lives, helping more wild ones and honoring her in the only way I know how. Because Sylvie loved life. She loved people. And she loved really really this place.

Sylvie, your magic lives on in every heart you touched. Until we meet again, my little cloud.

If our love could have saved you, you most definitely would have lived forever.

10/05/2025

Nature’s DJ is in the house tonight (and yes, he’s eating all your mosquitoes). Meet one of our endangered little brown bats (Myotis lucifugus) who’s apparently dropping his debut album straight from the rehab 🤣. Those sounds you hear? That’s his echolocation, but honestly, he’s really got rhythm.

All jokes aside, little brown bats are one of New York’s endangered species, and we’re lucky to help care for them here at Cottontail Cottage. They eat thousands of mosquitoes and crop pests every night, making them one of the most important (and underrated) animals on the planet.

So while Taylor’s out there breaking streaming records, this little guy’s out here breaking ecosystem records. Both icons, in their own way. 🤍 Whose album are you streaming first?

09/08/2025

He was so small, crying for his mom while his skin tore away on a glue trap.

I was supposed to be packing for a trip the next morning. Instead, I was hunched over a garbage can, working as fast as I could to get a baby flying squirrel off a glue trap. His tiny body shook, his cries piercing, and I will never forget them.

The truth about glue traps is they don’t solve problems, they only create agony. A hole in a house isn’t fixed by a glue trap. A family of squirrels doesn’t suddenly disappear because you’ve set one. These devices don’t address the cause, they only inflict slow, terrifying suffering on the animals who get caught.

When I testified before the NY State Senate about banning glue traps, one of the photos I showed was of a flying squirrel stuck just like this. Almost a year later, I still walk into my local hardware store and see stacks of them on the shelves.

It makes me sick because every one of those boxes represents another baby squirrel, another bird, another mouse, another life suffering alone and terrified. And for what?

There are so many humane ways to keep wildlife out of your home. Seal holes, secure food sources, call for help if you need it. But glue traps? They are nothing but cruelty.

So I’m asking you to do something, it takes just 10 seconds to make your voice heard. Please click here to contact your representatives and demand a ban on glue traps in NY: https://vfar.org/gluetraps/

09/05/2025

When you cursed me out for not answering the hotline, I was on a roof in the blazing sun, cradling a squirrel with a broken leg.

You didn’t know that.
All you knew was the phone rang and no one picked up.

What most people don’t realize is that our “hotline” isn’t a call center. It’s not staffed by employees sitting behind desks. It’s usually just two people, me and Meg. That’s it. We answer calls 24/7, on our lunch breaks, in the middle of the night, in grocery store aisles, and sometimes, like that day, while on rooftops trying to save a frightened animal.

When neither of us could grab the phone, the message you left was: “Why the f** do you even have a hotline if no one answers?”
The truth? I called you back less than 15 minutes later, once the squirrel was safe.

To their credit, this person later apologized, and I appreciated that, but it made me pause. Because what they couldn’t see was me, sweaty and sunburned, coaxing an injured animal into safety exactly the work they hoped I’d be doing.

I don’t get paid for this. I don’t charge a fee. I don’t clock out. I do it because these animals deserve someone willing to climb the roof for them. And 99% of the time, I answer that phone. But sometimes, saving a life has to come before answering it.

So if you call and I don’t pick up, please know I’m not choosing to ignore you. I’m out there doing the very thing you want me to do: saving lives. And I will always call you back.

Because this is my life’s work.
Because every wild life matters.
Because without kindness, none of this is possible.

🤍

09/03/2025

If I could tell you one thing about the animals people call pests…

I’d tell you how a baby squirrel wraps his tiny fingers around mine, holding on like I’m the only safe thing left in the world.
I’d tell you how an opossum crunches her food so loud and so silly it makes me laugh out loud when I’m having the worst day.
I’d tell you how a raccoon buries his face into his blanket when he’s scared, the same way a kid hides behind their mom’s legs.

And I’d tell you how they beg.
How a bunny will nudge at my leg with her nose like a puppy, asking for just one more grape. How her eyes light up when I hand her a treat and in that moment, it’s impossible to understand how anyone could ever see her as a “pest.”

I’ve seen them grieve.
I’ve heard too many orphans cry for a mom who’s never coming back.
I’ve watched siblings cling to each other when the world feels too loud, too big, too cruel.

And I’ve seen how they love.
Curling up together in a pile, finding comfort in each other’s breathing.
Learning my voice and trusting my hands, even when it was humans who hurt them in the first place.

This is what I see every single day as a wildlife rehabber.
Not nuisances. Not disposable lives.
I see souls. I see beings who want safety, joy, family the same things we all want.

And I wish you could see them the way I do.
Because if you did, you’d never look at an opossum or a squirrel or a rabbit the same way again.
You’d see what they really are: living, feeling beings who deserve compassion and a chance to grow old in the wild.

08/12/2025

Three rabbits were used for a celebrity photo shoot… and then dumped in Prospect Park like trash.

They were “adopted” online under false pretenses. Taken for clout, for clicks, for a fake heiress’s Instagram. And when the cameras were off, they were left to die…

Domestic rabbits cannot survive outside. They don’t have the instincts. They don’t have the skills. Out there, they starve, they freeze, they’re torn apart by predators. This wasn’t ignorance, it was entitlement. It was cruelty.

And this isn’t just one case. It’s happening everywhere. I get messages every week about dumped bunnies in NYC parks. People posing as adopters just to use them for whatever they want and when they’re done, they disappear.

If this had been puppies, the outrage would be deafening. Rabbits are just as smart, just as loving, and just as deserving of compassion.

Although I’m a wildlife rehabber who specializes in wild rabbits, my heart beats for all rabbits. I’ve seen firsthand how gentle, intelligent, and full of personality they are. They trust us with their lives. They deserve so much better than to be used and thrown away.

Our team member Jackie worked alongside All About Rabbits Rescue last year to save a dumped baby bunny off the highway in Brooklyn. This is the same group who helped save these three, and they have rescued countless dumped domestic rabbits from NYC parks. Almost every rabbit rescue I know is completely full right now, overwhelmed with abandoned bunnies. They are scrambling to save them before it’s too late.

Please, support the rabbit rescues doing this work. Consider fostering. Speak out when you see this happening. As a society, we need to do better. Animals are not props. They’re not toys for children. They’re not throwaway objects. They are living, feeling beings who deserve far more than what we’re giving them.

Charges must be filed, an example needs to be made. If we don’t stand up for animals and hold abusers accountable, we’re telling the world it’s okay.

This is how we change things by speaking up, by refusing to look the other way, and by making sure the next person who thinks about doing this stops before it happens.

08/03/2025

When I was a teenager, I met a woman who taught me how to speak to animals.

Her name was Terry.
To the town, she was a whisper.
The animal lady, they called her.

To me, she was the most magical person I had ever met.

Her little sanctuary, Serenity Springs, was overflowing with life. Everywhere you looked there was someone the world had forgotten, a gigantic blind horse, kittens left in a box on her porch, an orphaned feral hog no one else knew what to do with.

Somehow, every broken creature seemed to know where to go.

I was an awkward, lonely kid who never quite fit anywhere. But with her, I found a place. I spent my days cleaning stalls, feeding animals, and following her through the fields like a shadow. And without me even realizing it, she was teaching me who I was.

I will never forget watching her hold an injured squirrel one day, whispering to it like they shared a secret. She looked at me and said something I didn’t understand until much later:

“Animals speak to us. Most people just don’t bother to listen.”

Years later, I know exactly what she meant.

Animals do speak.
In the way their breathing slows when they finally feel safe.
In the trembling that stills when they realize they are not alone anymore.
In the quiet, wordless way they tell you, “I want to live.”

Every single day at Cottontail Cottage, I try to be for them what she once was for me.

I think she’d be proud.
Because I hear them now, Terry.
I hear them all.
And I never stopped listening.

🤍

Cottontail Cottage Wildlife Rehab

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