Barnaby, The One-Eyed Barn Owl

I was excited to start this new adventure as head of the education department at a renowned zoo. So what, my office was in a dingy, windowless basement of the museum. The CEOs words echoed in my head, as he unlocked the office door and switched on the light, “Oh good. They cleaned.”

If this was cleaned, I had no desire to know what it looked like before. There were bird droppings on the cabinets. Dust thick enough to write your name in. And the distinct smell of a dog needing a bath after a hard run. Clue #one I should have walked away that day. So what, the education out-reach coordinator had a sunny third floor office with a beautiful view of the grounds.

I was on the get-to-know-you tour with Mitch, the out-reach coordinator. We headed to the basement back steps where the education out-reach animals were housed. Mitch was telling me this basement location made it easier to load the zoo-mobile because the back steps lead directly to the van’s spot in the employee parking lot. His spiel was interrupted by a brain-piercing screech.

Mitch handed me a pair of falconry gloves, opened the cage reached in and brought out Barnaby, the One-Eyed Barn Owl. Barnaby had one good eye, the dark markings and scar where his other eye had been made him look like a bad-ass pirate.

Barnaby let out another shrill screech when, Mitch, placed Barnaby on my leather gloved hand. Barnaby screeched again as I noticed Mitch putting ear plugs in his ears. Mitch being the man who did not get the job of Curator of Museum and Education-yay you sensed it -- trouble ahead.

Was I offered ear plugs? No. This was a test. Mitch did not believe I was qualified and felt he should have been given the job. So day one-test one-let’s see how the over-educated lady handles screaming Barnaby, the One-Eyed Barn Owl.

Holding Barnaby out on my arm as I’ve seen falconers do in the movies, (sure the heck wasn’t going to let Mitch know I’d never done this before) I waited for Barnaby to turn his amazing head the 180 degree toward me.

“Now, Barnaby, what’s all the fuss? Mitch not feeding you fast enough?” I asked.

Barnaby swiveled his head 180 degrees back to look at Mitch and he let out an ear piercing screech in Mitch’s direction.

“Our boy seems unhappy with you Mitch” I stated as I put Barnaby on his perch.

He swiveled his magnificent head back in my direction and blinked his one good eye.

“No worries, Barnaby, no worries” I said looking into his eye and blinking when he blinked.

“You have a new friend it seems,” remarked Mitch with a clear tone of disappointment in his voice. “Barnaby doesn’t usually talk to strangers.”

“Why is he isolated back here?”

“Well let’s just say he doesn’t like strangers. He killed his roommate. In the morning all that was left was…”

Mitch bent down and picked up a pellet from the ground,

“One of these. We use these pellets, owl throw-up basically, to teach about what predator birds eat. Barnaby ate his roommate.”

Mitch handed Barnaby a frozen mouse to eat, watching me closely for any negative reaction.

“I hope that didn’t gross you out?” he smirked.

Barnaby, and I exchanged some blinks and head nods. I looked around the dim room and around his cage. There was nothing for Barnaby to look at or do. The boy was bored. (note to self: Move Barnaby to a more high traffic area so he has something to watch and watch out for.)

I’d clearly won the bird over, now it was time to win Mitch over.

“So Mitch, what’s your biggest stumbling block for success in your job?”

Barnaby let out a soft coo which made Mitch swivel his head 180 degrees.

“No one has ever asked that.”

“Well, I’m asking? What is getting in your way of doing your job as best as it can be done?”

“Storage, I have nowhere to put the science discovery kits we loan out to teachers. Those damn boxes are tucked in here and there, and it’s difficult to track which have come and gone and which need replacement products.”

Barnaby seemed to have drifted into a napping mode so we quietly left his cage. As we walked passed an empty room near the back staircase I saw a potential solution to both problems.

“What’s this room used for?”

I asked as we passed an empty, grimy room next to a closet that housed many of the discovery boxes.

“Oh, that’s where Bruce macerates the bones when an animal dies.”

Mitch takes out his key and unlocks the door. The first thing I saw was a 50 gallon drum by the floor drain. There was a tiger skin laid out on a sawhorse, the tiger’s skull and rib cage were on the large conference table. There were other animal remains scattered about in no particular order.

“We call these Bio-facts, you know like artifacts only from animals.”

Mitch went on casually as if unaffected by death.

“We lost the tiger a couple months ago. Maceration is a long process and stinks. So we do it down here in the basement. This room at least has a drain.“

This was a large room, about 1200 square feet, approximately ten square feet was actually in use at the time.

“These doors, they go into your discovery kit closet?” I inquired.

Mitch opens the door and shows me the shelves on the other side built against the door, blocking access to the room we were standing in.

Mitch checked his watch then grabbed one of the boxes from under the conference table.

“Excuse me, I’ve got a program to do.”

He bounded up the backstairs with the box. Bruce had already loaded up the chinchillas and hedge hog for the road trip to the Country Day School.

I went back to my horrid basement office, moved the shit covered whale tusk on my desk and drafted a plan.

The plan was going to make Barnaby the One-Eyed Owl much happier and Mitch-well he was likely losing his third floor sun-filled office. Running the out-reach program from its base of operations, the basement. would be much more efficient.

Having the teachers pick up/return the boxes from the new Out-Reach Center would increase the foot traffic in the basement. Moving Barnaby into the large room as ambassador for the education animal collection would increase the likelihood of Mitch being booked to visit more classrooms with live animals.

The closet/maceration room was remodeled. The closet shelving and boxes were rearranged and standardized for easy access and inventory purposes. Categorized and inventoried “bio-facts” went into a temperature controlled space for easy check in and out as a “library” items. The dingy room of death was painted, relighted, refreshed and used as a space for teachers to explore and learn how to use the loan kits and new bio-fact library.

Bruces’ maceration operation, though an important skill set, was not a frequently used one. When an animal died the maceration process moved to the brand new veterinarian center.

The plan worked out great for the out-reach program, which tripled in just 3 months. We had to hire an assistant for the program. Barnaby, the One-Eyed Barn Owl, was much better behaved having more to watch and witness in his day. He still screeched when Mitch walked by him. Mitch, well—like I said there was trouble ahead.