Petit duc

A few days ago, G came down for breakfast to find that Max had left a present of a baby scops owl on the floor. At first she thought the sad little bundle of feathers was dead, but when she picked it up she found that it wasn't. She phoned the vet for advice, and also the local Ligue de Protection des Oiseaux, who told her they don't do rescue. She'd have to take it to the branch 100 km away for that -- a trip she was reluctant to make with a fragile fledgling.

She has form in looking after stray animals (Max being one highly successful example), so she installed it in an empty box that once held cans of beer, lined with leaves, and has been feeding it on raw meat ever since. It's doing amazingly well -- it couldn't stand when she found it, but now it will perch happily in the corner of the room, take food from a kebab stick, and even fly across the room. Makes for a pretty messy bedroom (the only cat-proof place) but hey ... She's hoping to release it once it can fly properly and reliably feed itself.

It wasn't easy to take photos in a dimly lit room -- I didn't want to get too close or use the flash since it's easily alarmed. So this is terrible quality. But isn't it a lovely creature? I love its glowing eyes and little ears. See extra with G's hand for scale.