We heard from our friend J about the owl he and my husband rescued yesterday. The owl was very quiet during the two-hour drive from here into Clear Lake, so I'm sure J was happy about that. We had visions of the owl trying to get out of the box while he was driving on the freeway.
When he got home, J decided to keep the owl in the house, in the living room. (You may have guessed that there is no Mrs. J to put that idea to rest... I don't think I would have wanted an owl in the middle of my own living room.) J checked on the owl during the night, and each time the owl was still resting, nestled in the folds of the towel tucked into the cardboard box. At four o'clock in the morning, however, the box was empty. J looked around the room and the owl was still resting comfortably, but just not in the box. He's not able to fly, but he somehow managed to get himself out of his cocoon and he was exploring the room. Looking for Christmas mice? (Which is probably how he got himself impaled on that barbed wire fence in the first place.)
J was going to bring the injured owl to the Nature Center this morning, and we haven't heard back from him yet. We're hoping to hear a happy ending to this little Christmas story. When the owl was in the box on our porch, just after the guys rescued him, I petted the owl on his head, between his eyes, like you would do with a cat. And, just like a cat, the owl closed his eyes a little bit and seemed very content with the light stroking. His feathers were so soft, like velvet, and his coloring was just absolutely beautiful.
We're keeping fingers crossed for this Christmas rescue.
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