I’ve been volunteering with the Florida coastal wildlife rescue team for 4 years now, so I’m used to patching up hurt seagulls, releasing tangled sea turtles, and chasing off raccoons that raid the rescue shelter food bins. But the day I found Bubba? That stuck with me. He was tangled in discarded fishing line under a pier, his left wing sliced open by a boat propeller, so weak he couldn’t even squawk when I picked him up. We rushed him to the exotic animal vet, and they said even after surgery, his wing would never heal well enough for him to fly long distances or hunt for himself in the wild. Since he couldn’t be released, the team put out a call for foster homes with experience caring for large seabirds. I raised my hand before they even finished the announcement, and Bubba moved into my spare bedroom 3 days later.
Y’know that feeling when you bring a new puppy home, and you’re like “oh no, what did I sign up for” by hour 2? That was me with Bubba times 10. The first week, he tried to dive into my tiny bathtub no less than 7 times, knocked over my entire pantry shelf of canned beans, and ate 3 pounds of fresh tilapia a like it was nothing. I had to run to the farm supply store the next weekend and buy a 100-gallon stock tank for the backyard just so he had somewhere to splash around, ‘cause he was making a mess of my bathroom every time I turned my back. He also had this super annoying habit of leaving half-eaten fish on my pillow as “gifts” the first month. I screamed so loud the first time I found a slimy mullet on my sheets that my next-door neighbor banged on the door thinking someone was breaking in.
The funniest thing about Bubba is how well he fit in with my other pets, once everyone got over the initial shock. I have a 6-year-old golden retriever named Max, who’s the softest, most cowardly dog on the planet. The first time he saw Bubba waddling through the living room, he hid behind the couch for 2 hours. Now? They’re best buds. Bubba will spend 20 minutes a day preening Max’s golden fur with his beak, and Max licks Bubba’s good wing like he’s grooming another dog. They nap together on the couch every afternoon, and if I try to move Bubba off the couch to clean, Max barks at me like I’m committing a crime. My 3 cats still avoid him like the plague, though, ‘cause he once tried to grab one of their kibble pieces with his beak and knocked over their entire cat tree. Fair, I’d be mad too.
I get asked the same 3 questions every time I post a video of Bubba on TikTok, so let’s get those out of the way first. First: is it legal to keep a pelican as a pet? No, not for regular people, I have a special wildlife rehabilitation and educational exhibitor permit from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC). You can’t just grab a wild pelican off the beach and bring it home, that’s a felony, and you could get fined thousands of dollars, plus hurt the bird. Second: do pelicans bite? Hell yeah, their beaks are sharp as hell, and their pouch is stronger than you think. But Bubba only nips if you try to take his fish away before he’s done eating, he’s a total softie otherwise. Third: how long do pelicans live? According to the National Audubon Society, brown pelicans can live up to 40 years in captivity, so Bubba’s gonna be my roommate for a long, long time. I’m already saving up to build a custom 10-foot pond in the backyard for him, with a little dock and a shaded area so he can hang out even when it’s 90 degrees out.
My favorite Bubba story happened a couple months back, when my grandma was in the hospital for heart surgery. I was super stressed, sitting on the patio crying after I got off the phone with the doctor, and I didn’t even notice Bubba waddling over from his stock tank. He plopped down right next to me, rested his big fuzzy beak on my lap, and sat there quiet for 20 minutes while I cried. He doesn’t do that for anyone else, not even my friends that come over every weekend. I never thought a big goofy sea bird that smells like fish half the time would be such a good emotional support buddy, but here we are.
We also do local school visits now, for 3rd and 4th grade science classes, to teach kids about ocean pollution and how discarded fishing line hurts wild animals. The kids go crazy for Bubba. They love touching the soft inside of his neck pouch, asking him questions, and signing our beach cleanup pledge. So far this year, we’ve gotten over 250 kids to promise they’ll pick up any trash they see on the beach, and never leave fishing line or hooks lying around. It’s way more effective than just giving a boring lecture, that’s for sure.
If you’re thinking about rescuing a wild seabird, let me be real with you: it’s not for everyone. Bubba eats $120 worth of fresh, sustainable fish a week, his exotic vet bills are way more expensive than my dog’s, I have to get my permit renewed every year, and he still poops on the patio cushions when he’s mad I left the house for too long. You need a ton of space, a lot of patience, and you have to be willing to put the bird’s needs above your own a lot of the time. But for me? It’s 100% worth it. I wouldn’t trade my stinky, fish-breath, fry-stealing pelican roommate for anything in the world.