My daughter, the owl tamer

From looking at these pictures you can see why I am calling her that. Can you believe how still that owl is sitting? Can you believe that that is a real owl?

Truth be told, it is a real owl, and my daughter, Cheyanne, really is holding it. But, here's the nasty unsanitary part, the owl is dead. Not stinking, decaying dead, but freshly dead.

Upon sending the kids outside after a cooped-up day in the house, my littlest one came in to report that our resident "Crazy Squirrel" (more on him another day) killed an eagle. Come to find out it was this large owl, which they found dead by the barn. Cause of death- a broken neck.

My oldest daughter Cheyanne was facinated over it, looking at it's claws, opening it's eyes, looking it all over. Now my problem is what to do with it? (Given that it's still there in the morning and hasn't been dragged off by cyotes). Do I call the Dept of Conservation? Do I have it mounted and stuffed?

Well, it did make an interesting picture for the scrapbook, my daughter, the owl tamer!

Yours truly,

Jenn