In rural regions such as Carbon County, it’s not uncommon for people to come into contact with injured wild animals.

Susan Gallagher, chief naturalist at the Carbon County Environmental Education Center in Summit Hill, said the center provides respite for at least 1,000 injured or orphaned animals every year.

“We consider wildlife rehabilitation here to be just as much a service to the public as it is to the animals,” Gallagher said.

Much of the center’s rehabilitation work wouldn’t be possible if not for trained volunteers who lend their time and expertise to rearing abandoned bunnies, caring for wounded squirrels or supervising stunned owls – Diana Walls among them.

“When you’re faced with that fawn on the side of the highway who’s crying next to his dead mother, or the squirrel that fell out of the nest in the tree in your backyard, most people want to help,” she continued. “Unless we can provide them with a safe, legal haven for those wild animals in distress, then it’s very likely that they would take matters into their own hands.”

When that happens, Gallagher said, people can expose themselves and their families to disease. They also run the risk of raising animals improperly, and not actually preparing them to survive in the wild.

“I want to make sure people understand the importance of having a licensed, wildlife rehabilitation center in the area,” Gallagher said.

Around the center, Walls is known as the “bunny whisperer.” She has spent more than a decade caring for mammals in need on the education center’s behalf.

But Walls’ start with rehabilitation came as a child, when she started taking in baby birds. At 68, her experience now spans more than 60 years.

“It’s a full-time job, even though it’s volunteer,” Walls said with a chuckle.

Some of the animals Walls helps come to her because people tried to make house pets out of wildlife.

“A lot of the animals I get are dying, because people decided they’re cute and cuddly,” Walls said. “When they realize things aren’t working out, that’s when they decide to bring them to me, or the center. That makes it doubly hard.”

Walls refers to the animals in her care as her “babies.” She invests time in all of them, even if it doesn’t necessarily pay off. Some animals, like a squirrel named Kia who wasn’t eligible for release, end up leading a happy life. (Kia stayed with Walls and helped her raise other baby squirrels for eight years.)

Others, like a deer Walls brought into her home because it had lost the use of its legs, aren’t so lucky. Walls said that after being hit by a car, she knew the deer wouldn’t survive. But she didn’t give up on it.

Instead, Walls laid it up in her living room for a few days. Her cats and dog snuggled beside it. Her grandchildren petted it. And before the deer had to be put down, Walls said she fed it all the apples it wanted.

“It had the best life anything could ever ask for until we had to euthanize it,” Walls said.

Walls thought about taking off from rehabilitating animals this summer and going on vacation. But then the coronavirus pandemic began.

It wasn’t the first time Walls thought of taking a break but eventually changed her mind. Despite the negative side of animal rescuing, like long hours, an often dirty home and the disappointing loss of a rescue, Walls hasn’t been able to give it up.

“I’ve tried to retire many times and it just didn’t work out,” she joked.

Walls sees her volunteering with wildlife as a means of making amends, or at least an attempt at it. She said she feels guilty for the animal abuse perpetrated by people. So, she does what she can to help them.

“Hopefully,” Walls said, “I can make a difference.” Though Walls knows that she alone can’t tackle an issue as widespread as animal cruelty.

But for animals such as the pigeon currently living on her second floor, or the sugar gliders gearing up for release, or the two squirrels jumping around a cage waiting to be outside once again, Walls alone is the difference between life and death.