FOCUS ON NATURE Birdland's Distinctive Little Owl

Eccentricity Is a Byword for the Remarkable Burrowing Owl

Some of us can't tell a mockingbird from a shrike, let alone a bunting from a bobolink, but most of us can spot an owl. With their big heads and flattened faces, large frontfacing eyes, and vertical posture, they are among the most distinctive members of birdland. And burrowing owls are among the most distinctive and remarkable of owls. Standing on gangly stiltlike legs, blinking their great yellow eyes in the sunlight, they look perplexed rather than wise, as if suspecting they have strayed down some evolutionary detour apart from common owlish roots.

For one thing, burrowing owls are largely terrestrial, choosing subterranean dwellings they seldom dig themselves. Instead they appropriate ready-made homes from the likes of badgers, ground squirrels, and prairie dogs. Other eccentricities include roundthe-clock activity, a more gregarious life-style than other owls, and a tendency to colonize in small groups. Arizona's sunlit mesas, desert grasslands, and treeless plains are typical of burrowing owl habitats, for they love wide-open spaces. In fact, unlike most of their kin, these small (nineto 11-inch) owls are frequently spotted in the open, perched conspicuously on mounds or fence posts, swiveling their heads about-face and scanning their domain.

more than their own weight every day if they can. It's easy to spot owl-occupied burrows because they're littered with various items of trash and treasure. Feathers, cloth, tufts of hair, corncobs, cow dung, and food remnants decorate the entrances and trails down the tunnels into the main chambers. Elliot Coues, who published a handbook of ornithology in 1874, wrote, "There are very few birds that carry more rubbish into the nest; and even the vultures are not much more filthy." Burrowing owls lay more eggs (up to 11, with seven to nine being common) than any other North American raptor, and both parents assist in incubation and feeding. Feisty for their size and fiercely protective, they will attack any intruder even man that threatens their young. When a burrowing owl isn't hunting or underground, he is probably standing on his mound, surveying his realm. Should he spot something unusual, he stares and bobs and dips and turns his head, assessing distance and potential danger. If further alarmed, his bobs and dips accelerate, and his head appears to spin in circles, as if it might completely unscrew. Such antic behavior has distanced these droll little owls from the dark myths and sinister superstitions that cling to others of their kith. As solitary creatures of the night, owls have long been viewed as harbingers of death and consorts of witches and wizards. Burrowing owls, however, have a friendlier reputation. Their comic posturing and smug self-important frowns have earned them such nicknames as "clowns of the plains," "Billy owls," and "how-de-do owls." But perhaps the Zuni Indians christened them most aptly. "Priests of the prairie dogs," they call them because of the creatures' propensity To settle in dog towns a habit that has produced one of the most intriguing and enduring of prairie folktales. Early pioneers, surprised by the apparent congenial commingling of owls, prairie dogs, and rattlesnakes, described in their journals a happy "three's company" sort of arrangement for the trio. In his account of crossing the Oregon Trail, Francis Parkman noted "long checkered snakes" and "demure little gray owls" sunning themselves peaceably alongside the village's rightful inhabitants. Even sophisticated journalist Horace Greeley, heading west in 1859, speculated, "I presume the owl pays for his lodgings like a gentleman, presumably by turning in some provisions toward the supply of the common table." The facts, confirmed by later observers, reveal that these condos are time-share rather than communal. The three might occupy the same burrows. They just don't (willingly) do it at the same time. The owls are squatters in dog town, and rattlers will enter while hunting or to hibernate. Prairie dogs will rob owl eggs; owls will eat baby prairie dogs; and rattlers will dine on both. Despite the housing benefits, burrowing owls have paid dearly for their close association with prairie dogs. Early campaigns to eradicate prairie dogs destroyed vast villages and wiped out large populations of owls. Development and cultivation of their open habitats further diminished the owl count. In Arizona, as elsewhere, some owls have adapted to "civil-ized" living, finding homes on suburban foothills, farmland, golf courses, and airport landing strips, as well as in their favored open country. If surviving burrowing owls don't seem to give a hoot about all this, it's only because the "hoot" is not in their repertoire of utterances. Though they have a variety of calls, most of them are soft and melodious, prompting still another nickname, that of "cuckoo owl."

Let us be thankful that man has learned to give a hoot about this likable earthbound owl. He is a true Western character and a rare bird indeed.