Correspondence



119



A TAME TAWNY OWL


I am sending you what I think you will consider a most interesting and

unusual episode in the life of a Tawny Owl who went by the name of “ Olive ”.


The following notes are contributed by Mr. Lionel Vulliamy, of Cauldwell

Hall, Ipswich, in whose grounds “ Olive ” was found.


I had the pleasure of looking after her for a fortnight whilst her owner

was away from home, and during that time I found her an extremely

interesting and intelligent bird—quite different from what I expected an Owl

to be. Every morning she would greet my mother and myself with a contented

little “ wheeze ”. And I am quite sure she knew her name, as she would

always acknowledge it every time it was mentioned.


She was quite docile in the cage and would gently nibble my fingers, at

the same time closing her large dark brown eyes and showing their light-

coloured lids. She was always willing to get on to my hand or wrist, and

it was then that one realized the immense power of her legs and feet, and

one had to be a little careful in disengaging her.


Here is Mr. Villiamy’s account:—


“ Coming home one evening early in June, we found a baby Tawny Owl—

just a ball of fluff—sitting bolt upright on the ground near an ancient oak

tree. We could see, some 60 feet up, the hole where its nest was and out

of which it had fallen.


“ The baby Owl, lit up by the setting sun, looked steadily at us. It made

no movement and did not even wink an eye. The flies were settling round

its eyes. It seemed too weak, or proud, even to try to shake them off. It

just stared steadily at us out of its great round eyes. When we picked it

up it was quite passive, and was evidently upon the point of collapse. We

gave it brandy and milk, and it soon began to revive. From the first it

showed no fear of us, and took food readily from our hands. Soon both

its feathers and its appetite began to grow. Mice, rats, Sparrows, rabbits,

—it ate them all with zest. It was rather a dreadful sight to see it seize the

body of a dead Sparrow. With one tug of its beak the head would be severed,

and at once swallowed whole. Often the Owl—whom we named Olive—

would then try to swallow the whole of the rest of the body—wings, feathers,

legs and all—in one gulp.


“ Olive, in her earlier days, was kept in a Parrot’s cage, and at night was

brought into the drawing-room. Here she would roam about enjoying her

freedom. Soon she began to make short flights. We then put her into a

large covered-in enclosure, where she seemed quite happy, and would always

fly to a perch and take her food from our hands. She seemed to like being

stroked, making a contented twittering sound, and with her powerful beak,

with which she could almost have removed a finger, she would gently nibble

at one’s fingers.


“ Towards the end of August we felt that the time had come to give her

her freedom, so that she could learn to find food before the cold weather

came. She has now been free over a month. Every night, as it gets dusk,

my daughter, and I go out into the garden. I whistle, and almost at once

Olive’s answering call is heard, sometimes so far off that her call can only

faintly be heard ; sometimes she is quite near, and evidently waiting for us.

Gradually her call—too-whu—comes nearer, and soon, across the darkening

sky, she is seen in rapid flight, a splendid sight, with her fine span of wings.

She generally alights on the ground near to us, and then flies either on to



