Our Time with Owls: Ended

I was nervous about taking on baby owls. Living on a farm, I have seen so often the tender balance of life and death, especially with very young animals. It is always heartbreaking to see the most vulnerable little creatures begin to fade away. What's worse is the feeling of being powerless to do anything about it.

That's how I felt about Oscar. On the day he arrived, one of his feet spread out farther than the other, unnaturally so. My friend pointed it out to me when she introduced us to him. As the days went on, I noticed that the foot was getting worse. It was discolored and and the nails on the claws were beginning to curl inward. I had seen it happen before on the farm dozens of times. The first small signs that Oscar was probably not going to make it.

Each time one of the kids and I took turns feeding him it was more and more obvious that the efforts we were putting forth to keep Oscar alive were in vain, and this morning Oscar died. With that sad news came the news that Eddie too was beginning to show signs of curling, discolored feet. Normally very energetic and eager for a meal, Eddie just laid there barely making the effort to open his mouth.

Just Eddie

I feel sad to think that the two thriving little owls we received have declined so rapidly in the five days we have had them. Also, disappointing is the thought that the birds incubating will probably not be hopping, cracking, and emerging fresh and soggy from their shells. The four eggs sitting in the incubator haven't changed at all except for one small crack that we noticed three days ago, but since then nothing.

Egg with cracking that started and then stopped.

Rescuing animals has its rewards and its regrets. My friend will be by tonight to collect her puppy (who is doing very well) and the less than hopeful remains of what is left of our time with owls.

Our Time with Owls: Feeding

When we received the owls, I figured the biggest hurdle would be to keep them alive. What do you feed baby owls?

Fortunately, my friend had that all figured out. She had asked a mutual friend, who has easier access to the Internet than she does, to do a little online research on feeding baby owls. It was he who said that raw beef was a suitable choice for baby owls.

Having an abundance of raw buffalo heart (because her family will eat most of the other cuts of buffalo from their farm, but not the heart), my friend decided this would be a readily available alternative to beef.

So that’s what the little red-skinned birds with white tufts of fluff are eating. Cut into tiny squares and offered at the end of a toothpick, the sustenance is eagerly consumed by the screeching critters.

What I find amazing is how a baby owl’s beak is designed, from birth, with a descending slope and a sharp tipped end that almost has a clawing affect. Once the meat is lodged in the beak properly (and sometimes it takes them a few tries) the owl’s pointed tongue swoops down the beak and manipulates the morsel down its skinny throat which is so narrow and almost translucent that you can see the food going down.

Here’s a video so you can take a peek at feeding time:

Disclaimer: I am only following instructions given to me by the owner of the owls. I am not a bird expert nor do I have expertise in caring for birds.

Our Time with Owls: Delivered

Four owl eggs being incubated

The four owl eggs, which were about 2/3 the size of chicken eggs, arrived in a Styrofoam incubator set at about 100 degrees. Two of the eggs were already hatched. Eddie was two days old and Oscar, the bigger and stronger (and dare I say uglier) one, was four days old. 

Oscar at four days old and Eddie at two days old.

Oscar and Eddie live in a copy paper box with a hand towel rug. Their only piece of furniture is a 12 inch wall thermometer which lays across the floor, gauging warmth for their survival.

My friend said the temperature should be about 95 degrees. When Eddie and Oscar arrived they were cold, and Oscar was laying over the top of Eddie trying to capture as much body heat as possible.

We strung up a warming light by threading its cord through the grid of our drop ceiling in the basement and adjusting its height until the temperature was just right. It didn't take long for the tiny owls to warm up. Once they were warmed, they seemed to prefer laying by themselves as each bird chose its own spot in the box.

Enjoying the warmth, Eddie snuggles into his new home.

Disclaimer: I am only following instructions given to me by the owner of the owls. I am not a bird expert nor do I have expertise in caring for birds.

Our Time with Owls: Orphaned

I told her I would watch her puppy if she couldn't find anyone else. The following week she called to say we were the ones. 

"Could you watch the owls too?" my friend asked. "Two babies have hatched and four eggs are left."

I did feel a certain amount of mothers' responsibility; after all, we had made them orphans.

The previous week my husband had been cleaning out our weathered grain elevator. While traveling up the man-lift, he noticed a heavy chain swinging above him. A giant bird swooped around him and then down the aged shaft. Arriving at the dusty top, he was surprised to find eight oval eggs, smaller than chicken eggs, scattered on the floor without the safety or comfort of a nest. He scooped up the eggs and made his way down again.

Dropping one of the eggs, my husband and the man working with him watched as the egg spilled the secrets of the embryonic owl. While Dwight brought an egg home to show our kids, the other man was intent on rescuing the remaining eggs and gave them to my friend who had an egg incubator.

So, when I was asked to babysit the owls, I felt compelled to take them. Feeling like handling a puppy was in itself going to be a stretch, in the back of my mind I reasoned the owls would be a wonderful homeschool project and teaching tool in the development of owls.

The embryonic owl

Disclaimer: I am only following instructions given to me by the owner of the owls. I am not a bird expert nor do I have expertise in caring for birds.