Tuesday, July 2, 2013
I fell immediately in love, just as I had with the robin and the downy. That's robin poo on my belly, by the way...I'm in deep.
I can't even tell you how it feels to hold a nestling owl in your palm. It had been years since I raised Little Ray the screech-owl. I'll tell his story in the September/October Bird Watcher's Digest.
Owls smell kinda funky, at least until you wash their bottoms. I gave this one a bath and patted him dry. I didn't think he'd appreciate a blow-dryer, being a sensitive sort.
Having no appropriate meat on hand, I fed him strained baby beef and kitten chow through a syringe. He liked that.
A more winsome creature could hardly be imagined.
I hated to give him up, but he, too was bound for the Ohio Wildlife Center. So the morning of June 10, I had a cardboard box with three baby birds (and partitions between the predator and the prey), a syringe and extra food, and all the crap I'd need to take to North Dakota for a week working the 11th Annual Potholes and Prairie Festival. I got up at 3:30, left the house at 4:45 AM, deposited the birdlets at OWC at 7 AM, and made my flight at 8:25 AM. Just. Barely.