The barbarism of barb wire

 

By Nancy Cowing Umphres

 

The last phone call to Zapata Wildlife Rescue of 2003 dealt with an injured great horned owl that had been found caught on a barb wire fence. As I awaited the arrival of the injured bird, I had time to reflect on one of my earliest memories of the pain of barb wire.

I was three years old and we lived in the small ranching community of Lakeside , California , which is located in the hills several hours from San Diego . Our neighbors raised cattle and we had chickens and horses. I spent most of my time outside playing with our dogs and chickens, and had started up a friendship with one of the neighbors' young calves. She would come to the fence each day to be petted and scratched. She was such a soft, gentle soul with large, kind, brown eyes. I wanted desperately to be able to hug her and play with her, but we were separated by a barb wire fence.

I finally decided to crawl under the bottom strand of wire, but halfway through the barbs pierced my flesh and dug into my back. The more I struggled the deeper they penetrated. As I began to cry from the pain, my dear calf friend bent down and licked my tears. She continued to stay and comfort me until my mother heard my cries and came to my rescue. I still have the scars.

I always shudder when I receive a call about a bird caught on barb wire because often it means amputation of a wing or death from the trauma. The second phone call came with the worst news. The owl had died in transit. The combination of blood loss, starvation, dehydration, and exposure is really a horrible way to die, not to mention the probable mate left behind on a nest of eggs that will never survive. (It's great horned owl nesting season and the male owl feeds the female and young.)

The first phone call to Zapata Wildlife Rescue of 2004 also dealt with a great horned owl caught on barb wire. After the initial cringe I packed up my gloves and a pet taxi and headed off to meet Kevin Fraiser, our local game warden. He had received a call from a rancher who had spotted the owl hanging from his fence.

It was getting dark as I headed out, about 15 miles of highway driving and another 13 miles of bumpy dirt roads. It was very dark as I came upon the two game warden trucks parked on the side of the road. Kevin had covered the owl with his jacket to keep it from struggling. This had calmed the bird and kept it from injuring itself any further. Armed with flashlights and gloves, we tried to figure out how to remove the bird without any more damage. Both wings were caught and it seemed that the owl had twisted itself several times around the wire. The only solution was to cut the wire on both sides of the owl and take it and the wire in for careful removal. I made a call to Dr. Sam Bottenfield at home and arranged for him to meet me at his clinic.

The damage done to the owl's wings were amazingly minor. Sam was able to remove the wire piece by piece without anymore trauma, and I am thrilled to say that Kevin, the great horned owl, is recovering nicely and will be released within a month to six weeks back at the same spot where he was rescued. He is a very cooperative patient, as most great horned owls tend to be.

I hope he doesn't have a mate on a nest, but I suspect he probably does. Owls become more careless and desperate when they are feeding a family. It's an exhausting 24-hour ordeal to keep yourself, your mate, and young well-fed. I see so many more injuries to this species during this stressful time of year.

 

(The Zapata Wildlife Rescue Center can be contacted by mail at 6812 STOP 68A, Zapata , TX 78076-2913 , by phone at (956) 765-8526, or e-mail at dreams@zapata.border.net. Those interested in visiting should call ahead for directions.)