Some people come into the world knowing exactly why they’re here. My youngest daughter, Karen, was one of them.
Her mission revealed itself early—at just three years old, she had her first rescue: a determined effort to save earthworms stranded on the sidewalk after a storm (read more about story this in my previous blog).
By age eight, she was regularly canvassing the neighborhood, collecting donations for the local Humane Society.
She even set up a lemonade stand near our home (see the newspaper article about her endeavor), donating every penny to the animals. I kept her stocked with lemonade, and she stayed at her post all day, tireless in her mission.
At 13, with another coffee can full of change and purpose in her eyes, she marched into the office of Tom Colvin, the director of the Black Hawk Humane Society, and asked for a job. Tom saw something special and found ways to keep her involved —walking dogs, cleaning kennels, and becoming a steadfast volunteer, until she was 14, the legal age to work in Iowa.
Karen’s weekend work crew at the humane society through Junior and Senior High School
She was hired at 14 years old as an official employee! (And the best kennel cleaner around). She worked there intermittently for the next 14 years, her last return being Dr. Karen Becker. She had a reunion there a few years ago.
Karen and forever “her boss,” Tom Colvin, 2023
Our county’s shelter was the central hub for all injured and orphaned animals, both wild and domestic. Karen had a calling to work with relinquished and homeless dogs and cats, but she immediately recognized a new, unmet need: the wild animals arriving at the facility. No good-hearted humans were coming in to offer them a second chance. That same year, she also began her apprenticeship for her state wildlife rehabilitation license.
My husband, Jim, and I could see her blossoming into her calling, and drove her back and forth to the shelter twice a week, and every Saturday and Sunday (after church). At 16, when Karen was old enough to drive, Tom promoted her to the role of lab technician. She secured her state license for wildlife rehabilitation that same year, and that’s when her work with wildlife truly began. Orphaned raccoons, injured owls, baby rabbits, tiny featherless birds, opossums, hawks—you name it, they showed up at the shelter, and many came home with her.
16 yrs old, Karen talks to her orphaned baby robin on our front porch
Karen’s dad built her a rehabilitation enclosure under our deck. Sparrows, pigeons, cottontail rabbits, and raccoons found shelter there. Crows perched on our bathroom shower rods—makeshift enclosures when there wasn’t enough hospital space.
At 17, she obtained her federal wildlife rehabilitation license, which enabled her to treat migratory birds and raptors (excluding eagles). Hawks rested in the front closet. Little owls found perches under my dining room table.
One morning, my husband woke me up whispering, “Jeannine, get the possum off my head.” A baby had escaped its cage, crawled onto our bed, and was strolling across his forehead. He didn’t panic. He just knew.
One of Karen’s favorite animals to rehabilitate (because very few people knew how to keep babies alive) and the only marsupial in North America, the Virginia Opossum.
I had one rule: you can bring anything home, as long as it fits through the front door. And she honored that. To this day, she will defer all large animal questions to more competent doctors.
At a young age, she developed a strong intuitive sense as a rehabilitator and wasn’t afraid to ask questions when something didn’t make sense. She reached out to renowned raptor expert Barbara Harvey and persisted in arranging an internship. Determined to understand Barbara’s unusually high success rate—nearly double the national average—Karen drove herself to Wisconsin and spent a week at her facility.
The experience proved pivotal. Barbara treated her hawks, eagles, owls, and falcons with homeopathy—a natural approach Karen hadn’t encountered before—and fed them whole prey, reinforcing the profound value of species-appropriate diets, especially during recovery from trauma. Karen came home and learned everything she could about homeopathy, and never fed commercial, prepackaged, rendered Bird of Prey (BOP processed diet) ever again.
One of Karen’s life mentors, Barbara Harvey, with her beloved educational red-tailed hawk, “Sasha”
One day in high school, after returning from yet another vet appointment with a rescued wild animal, she looked me in the eye and said, “I can’t spend my life going to the vet—I have to be the vet.”
Karen graduated from high school knowing exactly what she needed to do to accomplish her mission: become a veterinarian.
My daughter and I, creance-flying a recovering red-tailed hawk to regain the use of her broken wing.
She earned a degree in Wildlife Biology from one of the world's most prestigious colleges of Natural Resources at the University of Wisconsin–Stevens Point. That same year, she was accepted into the Iowa State College of Veterinary Medicine.
Being a federally licensed rehabber, she wanted eagle experience she couldn’t get in Iowa or with her current permit, so she interned at the Colorado Raptor Center, where she formed a close bond with Arapaho, a majestic, permanently injured eagle she had the honor of training. Her last trip back to that facility was just 4 months ago; she has a deep connection to it.
Karen and Arapaho, 1992
She spent a year interning at the Berlin Zoo and studying wildlife in Australia. Her zoological veterinary mentor at the zoo, head veterinarian Dr. Reinhard Göltenboth, encouraged her to pursue natural therapies for wild animals before resorting to pharmaceuticals; their bodies were more adapted to phytochemicals from nature, which could better facilitate a rapid healing response.
Every step was rooted in her calling: caring for every creature by better understanding what they each needed, as individuals. There were no cookie-cutter protocols in her world because each animal was so wildly unique. A truth she stands on today.
Berlin Zoo veterinary internship
Her connection with wildlife has continued throughout her career. She acquired her endangered species rehabilitation permit 20 years ago. She was finally able to build the flight cage of her dreams that same year, allowing birds to exercise and recover without the stress of human touch.
Africa: attempting to save the life of a trafficked and abused pangolin
Preserving DNA by aerial sedation (a Dart-gun skill she learned while working at the Humane Society) and collecting precious samples
Most recently, she’s helped some of the world’s most trafficked and poached wildlife in Africa, including pangolins and rhinos. And her love of all things wild continues, wherever she goes, and also at home. Many of you are members of her private community, Inside Scoop, where she’s talked about Carlos, the pigeon with a broken wing that showed up at Rodney’s house that they rehabbed and released (and comes back every now and then to say hi):
Carlos and Karen
For the past four years, Karen has been tending to a special crow at Shubie Park in Nova Scotia—a bird she lovingly calls “Ethyl’s husband.” His mate, Ethyl, tragically died from aggressive Avian Pox while Karen was desperately trying to help her—medicating meatballs and delivering them faithfully even as Ethyl was fading. One day, Ethyl never came to eat. But her mate showed up… suffering from the same virus.
Now, years later, Karen continues to administer homeopathic treatments to keep the male crow’s symptoms in check. Despite persistent lesions typical of avian pox—a fatal disease known to afflict hundreds of wild bird species -- he remains remarkably attached to her, and free from Pox lesions.
Whether it's been 4 weeks or 4 months since their last meeting, each time Karen shows up at the park and calls out with a single “CAWWWW,” within seconds he’s there, taking food or needed medication —a testament to the bond they’ve formed and the healing care she’s provided.
Ethyl’s Husband
The most recent mother-daughter rescue: a spider
Some of you may have seen my post about our recent tarantula rescue. My daughter says I’m her longest-standing and most faithful assistant, but I must confess, some animals are easier and less intimidating to help with than others. I’ve learned to appreciate that they all have a rightful place in the intricately woven fabric of the universe and an important ecological role. And I’ve become a veteran. I love this role very much.
Earlier this year, a raven began greeting her every morning on her roof. He would Caw Caw Caw to her. She named him Rudy. Once she was summoned, she appeared with grass-fed meatballs that she placed on a nearby cement fence pillar (a ‘hack station’, she says), and soon they had a system: caw caw caw, snack snack snack. Their friendship continues, even with his offspring, who he now brings for regular visits.
Shortly after, a hungry and dehydrated little roadrunner—Lucy—started showing up at her back door. Karen rehydrated her and offered her food. Karen feeds everyone natural raw foods, of course, and to this day, when Lucy or Rudy get hungry, they come to rehydrate and secure good-quality calories.
Lucy at her back door
Karen’s connection to animals is a force of nature. It’s as if they know she’s the one who can help—and she always does. I've never seen her waver from her path. Her mission is steady, her passion unshakeable.
Caring for all of life—feathered, furred, wild, or tame—isn’t just something she does. It’s who she is.
You and I may not carry the same fierce passion for wild animals that my daughter does, but we each hold a responsibility to care for the natural world. Whether it’s protecting a wild creature, planting a tree, offering clean water during hot summers, or simply choosing compassion in our daily lives (like helping a slow turtle cross the road)… every action counts.
The deep respect she has for all living beings, wild and domestic, serves as a powerful reminder that good choices shape the world around us. Let’s choose to protect. Let’s choose to help. We aren’t called to fix everything, just help the things we come across. If you find an injured or orphaned wild animal that needs help, locate a licensed wildlife rehabilitator here.