In the Grip of the Barred Owl
As an aide at Battle Creek Cypress Swamp Nature Center in Calvert County for almost nine years, one of my duties was to feed the barred owl. The owl was blind, or nearly so, due to a collision with a car. Each morning I would take a couple of mice out of the freezer and put them on a plastic plate to thaw. Before closing I would take the now-thawed mice out back, enter the walk-in cage and touch the plate to the owl’s chin. The owl gobbled down the mice, whole, of course. I accomplished this simple task hundreds of times.
If there were visitors, I invited them to join me for owl feeding. Among them was a group of excited Cub Scouts who packed, nose to wire, around the cage.
That day the owl changed our routine. As I lifted the plate, he flapped right onto my head, gripping hard with those wonderfully adapted talons.
I am nearly bald and I take blood-thinners. You can imagine the scene, including the bulging eyes and wide-open mouths of 15 gasping Cub Scouts.
The bird promptly returned to his perch. I’m not sure if I gave him some help or not.
The repair at the emergency room was simple. Some antiseptic, a few band aides and a couple of shots.
That is my only claim to fame: An owl landed on my head.