At the last tree, the dog came off the lead. Imnediately she retrieved live to hand. A small thing with big eyes. A baby owl. I picked it up. Smaller in my hands than the puffed up feathers would have you believe.
Our house is just up the track. Fetched it back to a box filled with hay. Left the owl quiet and phoned round for advice. Owl sanctuary and RSPB in tandem. It must go back to the nest.
The oak tree has a lightening blasted top with a hollow. A perfect place for an owl rearing. The husband climbs trees, I don’t. The owl-let and he clambered up. He reached in and found the savaged remains of its sibling. Wing and head were all that a greedy crow had left. He cleared the remains and put the baby back in. Easy to see why it jumped the first time.