“This owl certainly has an attitude,” Hope Swinimer told me.
“You couldn’t pay me enough to pick that bird up” said a friend, looking over my shoulder at a picture taken by passerby David Chaisson of Ketch Harbour.
We were discussing a Great Horned Owl, so I was not surprised. What I found fascinating is the courageous manner in which this most dangerous of all Canadian owls came to be at Hope For Wildlife’s shelter.
The Great Horned Owl is large, powerful, and known to be aggressive towards humans. Its talons have a crushing power of 500 lbs. per square inch. Compare that to 60 for the hand of the average adult human male. It will defend its territory aggressively against any creature of any size.
Of course, all predators are territorial to some degree, and this protective instinct doesn’t make the Great Horned Owl a woodland monster. It’s just an owl being an owl, with its own manner of doing it.
However, it also makes the Great Horned the only owl in North America to have killed a human. Granted, it was a slash to the neck of someone trying to check eggs in a nest, but a fact is a fact, which is why Hope’s story of how the owl she dubbed “Adam” was rescued on Cole Harbour’s Salt Marsh Trail on New Year’s Day past has a special edge in the telling.
The hero of the story is Steve Mitchell of Lawrencetown. He, with dog Geisha and partner Mary Leigh Petersen, was walking about half way across the Cole Harbour dykeland when they found the large owl, obviously with an injured wing.
Their first reaction was to call Hope, but there was no answer so they left a message, and thinking that would take care of it, resumed their walk. Immediately a mob of about 50 crows began circling, so the trio returned to the owl.
A rescue appeared to be needed, so Steve, using Mary Leigh’s down vest as a wrap, softly captured the injured owl. It was then, according to Mary Leigh, that they realized their situation.
“You couldn’t pay me enough to pick that bird up” said a friend, looking over my shoulder at a picture taken by passerby David Chaisson of Ketch Harbour.
We were discussing a Great Horned Owl, so I was not surprised. What I found fascinating is the courageous manner in which this most dangerous of all Canadian owls came to be at Hope For Wildlife’s shelter.
The Great Horned Owl is large, powerful, and known to be aggressive towards humans. Its talons have a crushing power of 500 lbs. per square inch. Compare that to 60 for the hand of the average adult human male. It will defend its territory aggressively against any creature of any size.
Of course, all predators are territorial to some degree, and this protective instinct doesn’t make the Great Horned Owl a woodland monster. It’s just an owl being an owl, with its own manner of doing it.
However, it also makes the Great Horned the only owl in North America to have killed a human. Granted, it was a slash to the neck of someone trying to check eggs in a nest, but a fact is a fact, which is why Hope’s story of how the owl she dubbed “Adam” was rescued on Cole Harbour’s Salt Marsh Trail on New Year’s Day past has a special edge in the telling.
The hero of the story is Steve Mitchell of Lawrencetown. He, with dog Geisha and partner Mary Leigh Petersen, was walking about half way across the Cole Harbour dykeland when they found the large owl, obviously with an injured wing.
Their first reaction was to call Hope, but there was no answer so they left a message, and thinking that would take care of it, resumed their walk. Immediately a mob of about 50 crows began circling, so the trio returned to the owl.
A rescue appeared to be needed, so Steve, using Mary Leigh’s down vest as a wrap, softly captured the injured owl. It was then, according to Mary Leigh, that they realized their situation.
“We found ourselves back on the causeway with an owl wrapped in an Eddie Bauer vest, cradled like a baby in Steve’s arms, with its talons encircling his fingers and its beak six inches from his face,” she later wrote to Hope. “I must add here that Steve was wearing his new MEC, good to -17 degrees, gloves. The label said nothing about carrying owls. We were over three kilometers from the car, with really only one choice. We headed to it.”
It took about half an hour. Hope called and said she would meet them at the other end. The owl stopped the warning clicking and hissing, and, according to Mary Leigh, “seemed to enjoy the ride”. However, it kept an eye on the dog, and Steve could no longer feel his fingers.
It took about half an hour. Hope called and said she would meet them at the other end. The owl stopped the warning clicking and hissing, and, according to Mary Leigh, “seemed to enjoy the ride”. However, it kept an eye on the dog, and Steve could no longer feel his fingers.
Hope was waiting in the trail-end parking lot, expecting a Barred Owl. The site of a Great Horned surprised her. She placed a blanket over it, a calming move for most wild creatures, and had Steve extend his owl-clad arm into a basket. The owl, which had already been relaxed, now brought all its tremendous crushing power to bear for the first time.
“This really brought Steve to his knees,” Mary Leigh said. “Actually, I think he had his forehead in the gravel and was rocking back and forth, all the while trying to relax his hand while the owl tightened its grip.”
Hope kindly related that they could not force the bird to release, and that she had seen people pass out from the grip of talons. It was removing the blanket that ended the crisis. The owl jumped and made a hopping run for it. Hope performed the capture and took it to her Seaforth shelter for examination. It turned out the wing was badly bruised but not broken. “Adam”, as she called it (another Great Horned that came to her on Christmas Eve had already been labeled “Eve”), had broken tail and primary feathers. If they re-grow, he will recover.
And Steve Mitchell? He went to hospital for a tetanus shot. Owl talons are not kind to hands, or new winter gloves.
For me, the question remains: why was this owl so passive when Steve first captured it? The rescue was almost over before it showed its real power. Was it in shock? Too much in pain to protest? In love with the warmth of an Eddie Bauer down vest? We’ll never know.
I’d like to think an injured Great Horned Owl knew someone was trying to help it, restrained its instincts, and let him do it. Of course, this is just a wild animal we’re talking about, so we all know that’s impossible.
“This really brought Steve to his knees,” Mary Leigh said. “Actually, I think he had his forehead in the gravel and was rocking back and forth, all the while trying to relax his hand while the owl tightened its grip.”
Hope kindly related that they could not force the bird to release, and that she had seen people pass out from the grip of talons. It was removing the blanket that ended the crisis. The owl jumped and made a hopping run for it. Hope performed the capture and took it to her Seaforth shelter for examination. It turned out the wing was badly bruised but not broken. “Adam”, as she called it (another Great Horned that came to her on Christmas Eve had already been labeled “Eve”), had broken tail and primary feathers. If they re-grow, he will recover.
And Steve Mitchell? He went to hospital for a tetanus shot. Owl talons are not kind to hands, or new winter gloves.
For me, the question remains: why was this owl so passive when Steve first captured it? The rescue was almost over before it showed its real power. Was it in shock? Too much in pain to protest? In love with the warmth of an Eddie Bauer down vest? We’ll never know.
I’d like to think an injured Great Horned Owl knew someone was trying to help it, restrained its instincts, and let him do it. Of course, this is just a wild animal we’re talking about, so we all know that’s impossible.
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