My Dad had a pet barn owl when he was a kid. The owl was perfectly capable of hunting for itself, but loved raw hamburger which Dad often brought it as a treat. It lived in the barn, so there were never mice or rats in the corn crib by the barn. Dad would whistle and hold out a dish with the hamburger in it, and the owl would fly down, land on the edge and eat the meat. Later, he'd land on Dad's arm and take the meat out of his hand. After a few years, the owl disappeared, so Dad presumed he had died, and no other owl ever lived in the barn after that. here on Long Island we have owls, and now and then I hear them on summer nights.
My Dad had a pet barn owl when he was a kid. The owl was perfectly capable of hunting for itself, but loved raw hamburger which Dad often brought it as a treat. It lived in the barn, so there were never mice or rats in the corn crib by the barn. Dad would whistle and hold out a dish with the hamburger in it, and the owl would fly down, land on the edge and eat the meat. Later, he'd land on Dad's arm and take the meat out of his hand. After a few years, the owl disappeared, so Dad presumed he had died, and no other owl ever lived in the barn after that. here on Long Island we have owls, and now and then I hear them on summer nights.