Six weeks ago, I picked up a year-old tawny owl with a broken leg off the main road near our home and dropped him off at our nearest vet.
After a few days, I received one of the most bizarre phone calls I’ve ever had, asking “So when are you coming to pick up your owl?” 🧵
Oct 5, 2025 09:12Late one evening I found a Little Owl flapping about in a rural road. Poor thing must have been hit by a car. I threw a rug over him and took him home . . .
. . . And put him to bed next to the oil-fired stove in the kitchen. Poorly, I reckoned he’d die in the night . . .
. . . Next morning, I came down early to find bedlam! The owl was chasing bantam chicks around the kitchen chased by their mother . . .
. . . I hadn’t realised my mother had put a newly hatched brood of bantams to keep warm on the other side of the stove!
I caught the owl, bantam and chicks and restored order. (My mother not pleased, three chicks died). Examination of owl showed one broken wing and one broken leg, but no broken spirit! . . .
We fashioned a splint for the leg and strapped the wing and put the owl (now named Wol) into a cage where he clacked his beak angrily every time we got too near . . .
. . . Didn’t have to force-feed him, he got through quite a number of dead chicks (it was a cold, wet, spring). After four weeks, we unstrapped the wing and removed the splint . . .
. . . And started owl physio. Stretching the wing, massaging the foot, getting Wol to perch. Then flying lessons around the kitchen! More chicks to build weight.
Once Wol could fly (and land without crashing) we released him. Hope he made it.
