Advertisement
Published: April 9th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Having recently made the acquisition of a fresh roadkill hyrax, Kayna invited me to her friend's house so I could meet Akela, the Spotted Eagle Owl (actually, a subspecies called a Greyish Eagle Owl) for whom she had decided to stop and bag the mutilated meal. Simply an opportunity I couldn't pass up, I formulated an excuse to skip out on my afternoon field work and accompanied Kayna to her second home in Kenya: D's House.
Upon arrival, we were greeted by 6-7 dogs of varying shapes, sizes, and breeds. They put on quite an intimidating show until I stepped out of the car, at which point I realized they were all just clamoring for attention. Per usual, the dog-lover in me dismissed my canine-generated allergies and I readily accepted their affection. After making acquaintances with the herd of dogs, I met their owners: Alec (D’s husband), Michael (D's son), Johnny (Mike's friend), and finally the much talked about and revered D. Greeting us with a warm and welcoming smile, I understood immediately why Kayna escapes to this house at every opportunity. Clearly, D stands for Dear.
We headed out to the shaded veranda to enjoy the warm afternoon
while Mike fetched us each a refreshment. On the way out, I admired their absolutely gorgeous home (into which they moved four years ago from Nairobi), wonderfully decorated with African artifacts and bush novelties. Certainly an African-organic vibe to it. Even the veranda felt this way, with snags used as supports to hold up the corners of the veranda's roofing. The veranda is a wonderfully relaxing place, and has a fantastic view of a well-kept riverside yard full of flowers, aloes, trees, and shrubs. A couple birdfeeders and a birdbath attracted a number of birds and made the yard seem alive with activity (I had a difficult time maintaining a distance from my binoculars and being an attentive guest!).
Eventually D came out with tea, which I actually rather enjoyed. As long as I add enough milk and sugar, I could handle tea. Otherwise it just kind of tastes like dirty water to me . . .
I enjoyed listening to the old African hands chat about life in Africa and life in the bush. They are a good-natured bunch, laughing and smiling as they tell stories and share gossip about neighboring ranches and locals, and I was
Open wide . . .
Akela eagerly awaits a bit of tasty hyrax surprised to find myself getting caught up in the mini soap opera that is Laikipia. It all made
me want to become an old Africa hand, to know the ways of the bush and of the people who live there. Alec is about as experienced as one can get in this respect: he works for a hunting safari outfit, and spends up to six months a year in Tanzania. His weathered face clearly has a lifetime of stories to tell, though the only time who took the audience of us all was to tell a 10-minute joke about owls (due to the nature of our visit), of which the punchline was: "can't hoot worth a fuck, and can't fuck worth a hoot!"
While the others continued to converse and reminisce, D shared with me pictures of Akela the owl that she had taken throughout the last three months, showing the bird’s progress and growth. She acquired it as a tiny owlet in December, and the story goes that some local kids found the nest and began pelting it with sticks, rocks, and whatever else they could get their hands on, driving the mother away. The baby either fell from
Talons
My, what big talons you have . . . the nest, or they retrieved it (I’m not sure), but they somehow got possession of it and brought it to Kerry, an ex-Mpala employee, in hopes of exchanging it for a handsome reward. Kerry took the owlet, but refused to pay, in hopes of discouraging similar poaching and nest-raiding. She then asked D, who has cared for other animals of the bush in her past, if she could care for and raise it.
D agreed, though with somewhat of a nervous reluctance, as she had no experience with owls. She consulted a local raptor expert who gave her a heap of much-needed advice (don’t feed it mince, which has too much fat; don’t leave straw in the sleeping area because of fungus; give it an uneven perch so blood can flow to the feet (and avoid bumblefoot); don’t have too much physical contact, so that it can fly away when it’s good and ready; don’t feed it cotton balls, as some suggest, to help form pellets or casts; etc.). Despite her lack of owl-rearing experience, D clearly has a knack for this sort of thing, as evidenced from the series of photos tracking Akela's healthy growth.
I was
Damn, I look good . . .
Akela peering down at her reflection in her water dish. impressed by the dog-pen-turned-owl-aviary in which Akela (meaning “Alone”) seemed to be thriving, almost in complete adult plumage now and totally capable of flying. The aviary had a gravel sleeping room that appeared to have been at tool shed at one time, and an outdoor flying area with several perches enclosed by chicken wire, through which vines and creepers were growing, and a swath of shade fabric laid across the top of the enclosure to cut down on the light. Best of all, Akela looked happy.
While D provided us with Akela’s background and related to us her experiences raising the owl, Kayna and I marveled at the beautiful bird. Turns out Akela is a bit of a narcissist, and spent as much time watching her reflection in the water saucer as she did watching us. One of the few things that could distract Akela from admiring herself was the proffering of hyrax bits from D, which she held out to Akela in a pair of locking forceps. Akela eagerly gobbled a couple bits up before deciding she would rather stare at herself, again. Akela can already fly quite well, and flew to the ground to taunt the dogs,
D and Akela
D whispering sweet nothings to Akela, who gently hoots in content reply. all of whom went absolutely berserk and received a sharp scolding from D. D has also scattered birdseed half in/half out of cage so that Akela can get used to being mobbed by small passerines.
D is waiting for rains before releasing Akela so that there is an adequate amount of food (fledgling birds, young rodents, insects - Akela loves plump, juicy flying ants served to her in half an ostrich eggshell), at which point D will simply leave the door to the aviary open while continuing to care for Akela as before. Eventually, Akela will find her way out and can come and go as she pleases, slowly growing more accustomed to the wild. The prediction is that she’ll leave for nightly forays while returning to the aviary to roost (though she may just completely "fly the coop," so to speak - nobody really knows!). Although, considering the way Akela hoots ever-so softly and affectionately at D, I have a feeling she'll always be somewhere nearby . . .
Advertisement
Tot: 0.054s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 6; qc: 24; dbt: 0.0225s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb