Tree Child
The Icelandic word for owl is "ugla",
which led to the Modern English word "ugly."
The Owl Pages - Owls In Lore and Culture
Chapter 1 - Ugly Baby
 When my
best friend, Ellie, arrived unexpectedly at my office toting a large cardboard
box…I knew my life was about to change. Something in the box clacked loudly.
"It fell out of a tree…and was on the ground for three days…and its mother
didn’t come back…and, I didn’t know what to do…and, there were logging trucks
cutting the forest…and, there were wild dogs and cats…and who knows what
else…!!!" Ellie paused for a deep breath, because she always babbled like that.
"So, I brought it to you!" Ellie grinned at me sheepishly. Her face was red
with exertion and the August heat of Florida.
Cautiously, I peered into the box. A
chubby, silver, down-feathered ping-pong ball peered back at me with myopic
charcoal eyes. The ping-pong ball let out a vivid screech, fluffed itself up to
twice its size, backed up, and deposited a messy, green glop in the bottom of
the box. Then it clacked loudly at me, like two hollow sticks being beat
together.
"Oh, thanks Ellie! This is just what I need, a screeching ping-pong ball with
talons as big as my hands, and a beak bigger than its face! Couldn’t you have
brought me an orphaned tiger or something?"
"What is it?", Ellie asked as she
peered into the box at the peculiar baby.
"I don’t have the slightest idea what it is…but it sure is ugly", I joked.
Gently, I reached in and picked up the downy bundle. Sharp talons gripped my
hand tightly, but didn’t break the skin. It didn’t bite. Instead, after another
clack attack, the little bird quieted down and simply stared at me intently. Its
fuzzy little round head went in comical circles as it tried to focus.
Occasionally, the little head would pop up like a periscope, and then pop back
down.
Up close, it was even uglier. But,
the eyes were beautiful, huge, and dark mahogany brown. Eerie, seemingly
pupiless eyes gleamed inquisitiveness and intelligence.
"It’s a raptor, Ellie. But, what kind? Without identifying marks it could be a
hawk, an eagle, an osprey, or an owl. The eyes look like an owl.".
"Owls have yellow eyes", Ellie piped up.
"Not necessarily, Miss Audubon", I teased her. Let me do some research. Right
now, this little guy needs food, rehydration, warmth and rest.
Ellie’s love for animals was evident
in her big azure eyes. "Take care of it." She gently reached to pet the soft
little head and was rewarded with an ear-ringing shriek, and an attempted nip at
her hand.
"That’s gratitude for you," she sighed.
Ellie left the strange hatchling with me.
"I’ll keep you posted," I called after her as she headed back out into the
searing heat of the day.
My husband, Steve, arrived as I was
bonding with the baby. When he saw the puff of feathers in my cupped hands, he
gave me that LOOK. The LOOK that says.."Oh-oh, here we go again!" But, he didn’t
say anything. Steve knew he couldn’t talk me out of it. We had been through this
orphan rescue scenario many times. Secretly, he enjoyed animal rehabilitation as
much as I did.
"That’s the ugliest bird I’ve even
seen," was his only comment. Steve can always sum things up in one sentence. He
shrugged his shoulders in resignation, recalling the strange animals we had
parented over the years…from hairless baby flying tree squirrels, to newborn
baby brown bats.
Over the course of our marriage, we
had raised over 375 birds, almost every species of chicken, duck, goose,
pheasant, turkey and quail. Although we had rehabilitated many wild birds, we
had no experience with raptors.
The first few days "it" was fed a
mixture of warm bottled water, vitamins and honey for rehydration and energy.
The little bird was kept in an enormous straw basket full of soft, sanitized,
spanish moss, leaves and twigs. A recreation of its natural nest. A towel was
kept over the top of the basket, and the baby was undisturbed except for
feedings.
Our little orphan went everywhere with us, and was well-fed every two hours, 24
hours a day. Steve would give me that LOOK when the alarm clock went off in the
middle of the night. The LOOK that says, "Why couldn’t she adopt a goldfish?"
But, he didn’t say anything.
Soon the newcomer graduated to a
mixture of wet, canned catfood, honey, bottled water and vitamins. "It" was
growing like crazy, but still no identifiable markings. And, "it" was still
ugly. Really ugly.
"In some parts of Ireland, an owl
entering the house is killed at once, for if it flies away, it will take the
luck of the household with it." - The Encyclopedia of
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