Evelyn's Wildlife Refuge

Evelyn's Wildlife Refuge Inc. was born when the IRS approved a petition from Evelyn Flengas and her husband, Jim, to become a non-profit corporation.

Evelyn's Wildlife Refuge Inc. was born when the IRS approved a petition from Evelyn Flengas and her husband, Jim, to become a non-profit corporation. L. TODD SPENCER / THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT

VIRGINIA BEACH - Not long ago, Evelyn Flengas was ready to give up her life's passion - nursing injured wild animals back to health.

She and her husband, Jim, had spent much of their retirement money on things such as baby formula, dog food, chicken wire, seed, syringes and medicine.

Her case load also had gone through the roof, more than doubling since 1995, to more than 400 sick or orphaned critters handled last year at her backyard refuge in Virginia Beach. The 2005 total included 115 needy rabbits, 69 raccoons, 49 squirrels and 10 foxes.

She was tired, frustrated and nearly broke. With the woods and wetlands disappearing around her neighborhood because of development, she could see no end in sight to animals losing their habitat and winding up on her doorstep. "I had just about had it," said Flengas, her native Irish brogue still detectable after years of living, and talking, in the United States. "But you know, I just couldn't. I couldn't turn away. And I certainly didn't want to quit just because of the money."

So she and her husband did what many wildlife rescuers have done to make ends meet: T hey became a non profit corporation.

The Internal Revenue Service approved their petition to become a 501(c)3 corporation in January, and Evelyn's Wildlife Refuge Inc. was born.

It has a Board of Directors, attending veterinarians, an accountant and a Web site, and must file a separate income tax form.

Most importantly, though, the Flengases can solicit donations by telling potential donors that their gifts would be tax deductible. They can seek government grants. They can offer memberships - they already have about 50, at $15 each. They can approach pharmaceutical companies for medical donations and "have some legitimacy behind us," she said.

Although money remains tight, the Flengases hope to expand soon and are seeking a land donation in Suffolk to open another wildlife rehabilitation refuge.

Their goal is a string of three such refuges across the heart of Virginia: theirs in Virginia Beach, one in Suffolk, and the big one - the Wildlife Center of Virginia, a multimillion-dollar hospital and recovery area, in Waynesboro.

The Wildlife Center of Virginia also is a non profit corporation. So is the Virginia Beach Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, which operates a wildlife rehabilitation service and often asks the Flengases to house its patients.

S o, too, is Wildlife Response Inc., a Chesapeake-based organization dedicated to treating injured wild animals.

"Obviously there is no other way to make a go of it," said Lisa Barlow, president of Wildlife Response, which incorporated in 1992.

Despite group fundraisers and the sale of T-shirts and sweatshirts, Barlow still spends much of her own money to help injured animals brought to her - about $7,000 last year, she estimated.

Asked how she manages to stay afloat, Barlow laughed and said, "Well, I don't eat a lot of meals, and I don't have much of a social life."

Wildlife rehabilitators are required to obtain a state permit. It costs $10 per year. To handle migratory birds and larger species, a federal permit also is needed.

In Virginia, about 325 permits are issued annually, a number that has remained about the same for years, said Ed Steinkoenig, a policy analyst who supervises the permit section at the state Department of Game and Inland Fisheries.

The state does not exactly embrace the idea of wildlife rehabilitation. It does not offer grants or aid to rehabbers. As Evelyn Flengas said, "They could take us or leave us, to be honest."

Steinkoenig described wildlife rehabbing this way: "It's a perceived need - by them."

"I know we might sound rigid, but we don't want to see this as a means to create a zoo, or an exhibit, or to take animals out of their natural setting," she said. "It can be a useful service when the animals are treated and released back into the wild."

Part of the problem, Smith said, is that some people "misinterpret" animals in trouble. This is especially true with baby deer, she said, noting how mothers sometimes will leave their fawns behind to search for food.

Flengas said she does not turn away any wild animal brought to her. Spring is her busiest season, "and we pretty much are going full speed until September or so," she said.

On a recent day at the refuge, which spreads across 4 acres behind their ranch-style home near Stumpy Lake, a Muscovy duck was mending a broken leg and an opossum that had been shot with a BB gun was nervously looking after its 10 babies in a large cage.

In the bird house, three baby pigeons discovered by an exterminator were resting, as was a mourning dove that had been chewed up by a dog.

The Flengases ticked off the help they receive from various local businesses and groups: bruised fruit from Farm Fresh, old bread from Flowers Bakery, dog food from the Virginia Beach SPCA.

After lamenting their hand-to-mouth existence, Evelyn Flengas noticed a guinea hen peeking at her from outside the kitchen window. It squawked and pecked at the glass.

He went to the window, made eye contact with the bird and sat back down at the kitchen table. He was smiling. The bird grew silent.