One weekend in late March, a little owl fell from a tree. Caring homeowners looked out their window and saw the little fluffball sitting in the street below the nest. It wasn't the first time owls had nested in the area, but it was the first time a baby had fallen down. It's a dangerous place for an owlet out in the wild! Being hit by cars may have been a consequence for this bird, whether he was pushed out by the rain, wind, or even his siblings. Whatever the reason, it wasn't a good spot for him to stay at that moment.
What looked like a better option was a beautiful white pine tree in the backyard of an adjacent neighbor, where it provided great cover in between their group of houses. The neighbors helped the finder to gently move him underneath that tree, and then they waited for the parents to return. A few hours later, Mom and Dad had seemingly brought food to the baby, but the baby continued to sit on the ground in the same spot. In an excellent next step taken by the finders, they called DCHS’s Wildlife Center and asked for advice about what to do next. The parents were present, but the baby looked like it was too young to walk or make its way up the tree to a safer location. Should he come to the Wildlife Center? Was he too young to be on the ground? Our staff looked at the photo they were sent by the finders and decided, yes, he was too small to be on his own and needed to go back in a tree. Volunteer, Maarit, picked him up on her way to her evening volunteer shift, and then staff provided a full physical exam, diagnostics, and feeding that same night. After determining the owlet was uninjured, staff worked on a plan to reunite him with his family.
Over the years, our wildlife program has built a strong network of raptor reuniting and arborist volunteers that help with these situations each spring. One of these arborists, Pete, was quick to accept the job of getting this little one back up in the tree. It was too high to see a sibling in the original nest, if there was one, so he started by climbing up to see if there were any other owlets present. There were none, so maybe Great Horned Owl hatchling #25-0202 was the only baby that hatched. The nesting tree was also deteriorating, and a suggestion was made that it may need to be removed or taken down in the near future. Our team agreed that putting up a new nest basket in the nearby white pine could be safer. So, the little owlet was hoisted up by Pete with the help of Jacob, a Werndli Apprentice, and Maarit, a volunteer, both from DCHS's Wildlife Center. After Pete secured the nest basket in some of the higher branches of the pine, everyone stepped away and monitored to see what happened next. Parents were seen in the area, and according to volunteers, Mom was watching the process the whole time, curious about what was happening. She did not approach to protect the baby or become aggressive, but she appeared to be wary and knew that her baby had moved. However, at no point did either parent try to approach the nest.
Staff grew concerned that the parents didn't like the placement of the new nest or were stressed from all the activity. Since the owlet was fairly well-feathered already, and nighttime temperatures were going to be warm, we elected to let him stay overnight by himself, even if Mom and Dad weren’t coming to visit him. The next day, Maarit returned to get a progress update, but still, there was no luck. It didn't seem that Mom and Dad were coming to visit the nest, even after watching for hours. They were hooting, flying around the neighborhood, and sometimes present in a nearby tree, but they never came to visit the baby in the basket. As the day grew later, our team thought there might be a chance of “reuniting failure”, or so we call it. Typically, rehabilitators suggest a three-day window of time for reuniting to be successful when you put a single owlet back with its parents. It was already day three, because the first night the owlet spent in the Wildlife Center, the second night he was on his own in a new basket, and then it was the third day. It was nerve-wracking for everyone, waiting and wondering.
Not wanting put all of the responsibility on just one person to monitor the nest, I decided to check out the location myself and relieve the watch, or “babysitting duties” as I called it. I drove down that Saturday afternoon with my binoculars and scope at the ready. I sat outside the house in my car, one street behind the tree with the nest basket, and I just watched. I talked to a couple of the neighbors who walked by and asked what they had seen over the past day. Each person told me a similar story about how Mom and Dad were around and that they all saw what was happening during the reuniting process. However, nobody had seen the parents approach or land on the nest basket since then. This became even more concerning!
It was getting late, and the temperatures were starting to drop. It was so nice the day before, but now it was forecasted to be below freezing with a light chance of snow. Maarit and I traded on and off, driving back and forth to the house between charging our phones or getting food, but by the time dark settled in, both of us were out there together making last-minute attempts to get the parents interested in the nest basket location. We played audio begging calls below the tree, followed the parents around the block, and tried to entice them with the sound of their own baby when it called to them. Great Horned Owl hoots got their attention, but the wind seemed to be making it harder and harder to hear the itty-bitty way up in its basket calling for food. They would fly back and forth, and at one point even landed on a nearby roof – so close! It was as if they were giving a look to say, “what the heck are you doing and why are you following me? Go away!” By 10:00 pm, we had to give up, so I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.
The next morning, I was ready to have an arborist come back to take the nest basket down. I was dejected, and worried – it was so cold that night and I thought the baby would develop hypothermia without their parents brooding over top of him. When I went back to check on the baby an hour before my shift started, I saw his head pop out! Minutes later, mom came to the nest basket (see video below). She gave her little one a nuzzle, started to move a few of the items in the basket around, and then preened herself while it was lightly raining. I knew the baby had been okay overnight because it was eager with enthusiasm. If Mom hadn't been there that night, he probably would have been cold, lethargic, and silent. Seeing the opposite behavior was such an amazing experience. I got a rush of relief knowing he was okay after we left, and Mom had kept him warm and safe through the snowstorm.
I sent an update to the neighbors, and everyone was ecstatic. They commented on how dedicated our team was to come back and forth so many times during that three-day window just to get the little owlet back to his parents. But really, that time investment was only a fraction of what it would have been had we needed to keep this bird in rehabilitation over the next few months. As always, Mom is the best caretaker for its baby, no matter the species. He can now grow up to be an owl with an owl parent instead of an owl with a human parent, which often leads to habituation, tameness, or imprinting. Plus, the baby didn't disappear on its mom. Not to anthropomorphize things, but you might think that as a mother, she was probably frantic seeing her child kidnapped (for good reason), being gone for an entire day, and then showing back up magically without warning. We'll just assume that they are glad to be back together and that it was a relief for her, too.
Jackie Sandberg is the Wildlife Program Manager at DCHS's Wildlife Center
