It sized me up. It was clear that Josh is the person it trusted. He asked it to step onto his glove so I could examine it.
And it did, this wild bird. No flapping, no panicking, just acquiescence. Trust.
It allowed me to stretch its left wing, where I found a break near the wrist joint. It gave me the slightest nibble with its golden bill when I found the bad spot, to tell me that it hurt. Oh poor creature. If I could wave a wand and fix you...
I couldn't resist digging my fingers into the deep, incredibly silky soft feathers on its head and giving it a little rubdown. I have had a barred owl push back up against my caress just like a cat. It didn't do that, but it didn't seem to mind, either.