I grew up in a small town named Haworth, it's in Yorkshire, UK. My playground was wuthering heights moor, the surrounding woods and streams and rivers where we would swim and try to catch trout with our hands.
I can't remember how old I was, maybe nine or ten. I was walking home through the woods and noticed something that looked out of place on the leaf covered ground. It was a small ball of whitish coloured fluff. I was intrigued so went to check it out and as I got closer I saw that it was moving slightly, when I crouched to get a better look I saw it was a very baby chick that had probably fallen from the nest. I didn't fancy it's chances of survival where it was so I picked it up and took it home.
I got an old eye dropper, opened its little beak and put drops of water in every hour or so and chewed milk and bread in my mouth, picked small pieces from it and dropped it into its ever open mouth. I asked my dad if I could keep it and he said I could if I built a small wooden cage outside for when it grew bigger. I kept feeding it and as it grew I knew it was a tawny owl. I built a small hut which I seemed to expand into a small shed as the owl became larger. I named it Tawny ( I was really astute then). My dad said it needed meat and on my way home from school one day I called in the abattoir which wasn't much out of my way. I asked a guy there if he had any meat, to which he replied smiling, what's the matter kid, mum doesn't have food?
I told him the meat was for my owl and he said, yeah right! I told him it was true and he said, show me the owl and I'll give you some meat when you want it.
I ran all the way home and I stuffed the owl, which was now the size of a small guinea pig under my jumper and ran back. The guy seemed surprised when I turned up and showed him the owl, but true to his word he gave me lots of meat over a period of just over two years.
Tawny stayed with me for around two and a half to three years, he would perch on my wrist and fly off, but he always came back. Then one day my brothers friend swung my mums clothes line like a skipping rope and he hit the owl, it flew off and never came back. I was sad for quite a while I think, but later in life I learned that owls reintegrate back into the wild really well, probably because they're quite solitary. Regardless it was two of the best years of my life.