Owl saved by good neighbors

It's spring and as it has been for eons, bird-nesting season is underway. One of the birds that gets an early jump on nesting time are Great Horned Owls. They begin laying eggs in February when the nights are still down to 12 degrees and cold winds and snow are swirling about.

Right about now nestlings from the owl's 28-day incubation period are about two weeks of age, and they look a lot like a fuzzy softball with a beak, and eyes that are not quite open all the way. That's what Jim Knapp of the Willow Ranch found on the ground beneath a juniper close to his house.

"Should I pick it up?" he asked anxiously when he called me. I assured him that it was safe to pick up the owl, hoping that Momma Great Horned Owl wasn't watching. Had she been worried about her Little One she would have tried to knock Jim's head off.

After considerable discussion, Jim placed the owl safe in a small cardboard box in his home. I say, "safe," as Momma Owl did not do her usual protective violence on Jim.

I thought about going out and looking for the nest and putting the owl back where it belonged, but it was getting dark. The last thing anyone wants to do is get too close to a Great Horned Owl's nest in the dark. That could put you in the hospital.

Next day, Gary Landers of Wild Wings Raptor Rehab facility near Sisters went with me to Jim and Judi Knapp's place to see what things looked like in the daylight.

The nest appeared to be an old accipiter (bird hawk) nest in the juniper under which Jim found the owl. Observing two ear tufts protruding from the pile of sticks confirmed that momma owl was in the nest where the little owl, now named, "Owl" came from.

I was prepared to climb the tree and put the "Owl" back, but for the first time in my life I ran into the "Old Geezer Syndrome." Both Jim and Gary were adamant about my NOT climbing the tree. So I slinked away and watched as two ladders were placed in the tree, both of which were 20 feet short of the nest.

Jim called the Sisters/Camp Sherman Fire Department to see if they had a ladder that would go that high, but no such luck. That left our only source of procuring a means of getting to the nest 40 feet up in that skinny juniper: Sisters Rental.

Owner Pat Thompson listened to my plea for help and didn't even blink. He just nodded his head and said, "As soon as the man-lift comes back I will call you and we'll get the little owl back to its home."

That's what makes living in Sisters so wonderful, the great spirit of cooperation that runs through our community. The veterinarians at Broken Top Clinic demonstrate that same spirit of cooperation. Whether be a sick raptor or an owl that has blown out of its nest, people care.

With the help of Sisters Rental equipment operator Harvey Duncan at the controls of the man-lift, Gary was able to get close enough to the nest to place the baby back with its sibling. All the time, Momma Owl flew around, hooting, barking and clacking her beak at the strange contraption that had invaded her domain. Now, if the wind doesn't blow the little owl out of its nest again, and momma can get over the interruptions, we may have hit a home run. Let's hope so after all the TLC that went into saving the little owl's life.

In that same light, if you find a baby bird on the ground that is capable of grasping a limb or branch of the tree close by, do the same thing. You probably will not need Sisters Rental's man-lift, so just put the bird on the limb and mom will be there to take care of it.