Tale Feathers

How well do you remember your Greek mythology? Do you recall Icarus, who had the opportunity to escape the island of Crete with his father? They used wings fashioned of feathers and wax. Being warned to not fly too close to the sun, Icarus was having a fabulous flight over the ocean, only to grow bold with his new found power. He drowned in the sea after the wax on his wings melted from the heat of the sun.

If only our wild neighbors could be warned of modern day obstacles that hinder their flight! Power lines, fences, building lights at night, and even environmentally friendly wind turbines are hazards that birds now encounter on a daily basis. Many times the collisions kill the bird; a few are found and brought in to our rehab facility.

"Icarus" the Great Horned Owl encountered such an obstacle about a year and a half ago. We will never know what he hit that caused half his right wing to self amputate. We only know that when rancher Shane from the Smithwick area brought the bird to us in mid-December, he was partially wingless.

The wound had healed well. In fact, Shane didn't even know the bird was missing part of a wing. He only knew that the owl couldn't fly. When the bird sits on a perch, it is almost impossible to see that a portion of the wing is absent. So I easily understood the benefactor's puzzlement & shock when I asked over the phone, "How did you manage to amputate the owl's wing?" Shane had not done the deed; something the bird collided with had caused the loss of limb.

Now WEI staff was faced with a dilemma. A bird without a wing isn't really much of a bird. However, this individual had managed to feed itself quite well for some period of time despite its injury. Should we request permission to keep it as an educational bird, or euthanize it?

A lengthly consultation with the US Fish & Wildlife Service staff in Denver helped me decide to fill out the application to keep the great horned owl alive. Permission has just been granted to WEI to add Icarus to our flock for educational purposes.

Icarus will begin a lengthly training that initially involves becoming accustomed to human contact, which culminates in eating meals on a gloved hand. Subsequent steps include wearing anklets and jesses, and exposure to walking about while on the glove. Exposure to new things is added slowly. Through all of these steps, the amount of stress the bird demonstrates it is experiencing is carefully observed. Everything is done at a pace that minimizes stress.

Icarus had a role of being the best flighted mouse trap in his world. He was living out his natural destiny when he flew too close to the human world. Now he is being asked to take on the role of educating youngsters about native owls and their marvelous adaptations. Hopefully the opportunity will be accepted by Icarus. I will keep you posted.

Wildlife Experiences has one of the pairs' offspring as an education bird. Sherwood was hatched in 2005, and is one of the most unobtrusive owls we work with. Sherwood prefers to hang out next to his post in his mew, or the wall of his outdoor jump box, doing his best to fade into the coloration of his environment. His most aggressive actions are to clack his beak together when you reach softly to pick him up on the glove. In public he is calm, and grows more steady with each program he helps present to school children.

With Sherwood's docile nature and the ordinary calmness of the breeding pair, today I allowed myself to be lulled into a sense of false security around them.

Tawny's are native to Europe, plus central and eastern Asia. They are an owl of the forest, with a short tail, broad wings, and the tremendous staying power of a generalist species. They eat an immense diversity of other living creatures, and this allows them to have both a far-flung range, and a large, healthy population.

In physical size, Tawny's compare to the Barn Owls and Barred Owls of North America. With deep brown eyes, a perfectly round facial disc, and no ear tufts, they appear gentle, calm and astute.

I post-holed through the drifts as yet another blizzard turned our daily work in to chores. I was carrying the meal to the residents of the "outback", and was grateful for hunting boots and a warm hat crocheted by a dear friend. "The owls", I thought, "are fluffy and snug within their feathers, spread so there is a great deal of airspace for extra insulation." Thinking correctly, as I opened the lock to the Tawny Owl mew the male bird appeared about twice normal size.

Speaking softly to him, I started to provide the mice and chicks that are the birds' diet, and realized I wasn't seeing the female. I stepped to the east end of the nest box, which hangs at least 3 feet over my head. I hoped to catch a glimpse of wingtip or top of head, to reassure myself that she was alive and doing well in the storm. When that effort produced no bird sighting, I stepped to the west end, and took my first good look at the box design from this angle. Admiring the logic of those caregivers that came before me, I made a very bad decision.

I turned my shoulder to the male bird, and thus could not see him. Less than a full breath later, I got fully smacked in the side of the head with owl feet. He swooped over my head, and dove into the nest box.

Letting out a little yelp, I apologized to the male, and made my excuses for a quick departure. His full fury had been directed at my eyes, and it was my own fault. His duty was to protect his mate and the new offspring growing within their eggs, and I was a predator of the worst ilk.

I am reminded that despite mews, locks and human built nesting boxes, we care for wild birds, and never should we forget to give them the full respect they deserve for their wildness. That wildness is an attribute which will forever produce within me the deepest gratitude and awe. Gratitude that I will always have something to learn from the wild ones, and awe at their tremendous instinct to have their species survive.

On a blizzard day, we try to work the shortest day we can. If several people can get to work, we can do the basic care of our 52 charges within about two and a half hours. Basic care includes essential cleaning, weighing of birds, food preparation, and feeding. Parrots might get an extra toy after their cages get cleaned, but our interaction with the birds and animals is minimal.

The abbreviated days are hard on us and on the animals. Training is skipped over. The birds crave the interaction with their trainers; the mental stimulation keeps them healthy, alert and vibrant. Days without training make for less happy animals.

In turn, staff crave the interaction with their birds. On blizzard days, several negative things happen to the Wildlife Experiences staff. First, progress towards a training goal is set back. Worse yet, my staff can get cranky. Much of what motivates the Wildlife Experiences staff members to give their all is the chance to work every day with very fascinating, intelligent creatures. We need our "bird fix" the way users need drugs. I personally think our addictions are a little healthier, however!

The day after a blizzard includes way too much shoveling of paths to get to the "outback birds" and the rehab flight pen. This blizzard the shoveling took two employees about 3 hours each.

The melting is on in full force, and just in time. The National Weather Service is warning the Black Hills and western South Dakota to brace for a rain and snow storm that will likely hit Friday night.

We aren't putting away the shovels just yet. I keep reminding everyone that shoveling snow beats digging hand line during fire season, but somehow the words fall short of consolation when you are staring at snowdrifts two feet deep in front of a bird's mew.

Thank goodness spring is coming!