Great Horned Owl
Saw Whet Owls
5. Great Horned Owl and Saw Whet Owl
In 1988 I was working as a medical transcriptionist in a rehabilitation hospital. I enjoyed my job, mainly because the job I held before it was pure hell. I didn’t need any training to be a medical transcriptionist; they just showed me my desk and computer and I went to work. I stayed at the hospital for a year, getting along well with my co-workers. For once in my life I didn’t take anything very seriously. My hands did all the work, leaving my mind free. We, the transcriptionists, had private jokes and funny words. The funniest one—we thought—was the name we gave ourselves—“mole-rons.” This was because our offices had no windows and at 4:00 PM, when we left, the bright light from the sun made us blink—like moles coming out of their holes in the ground. And since we were treated like morons by our boss we created the new word of mole-ron. We thought this was hysterically funny. Also, the other transcriptionists sat in a separate room from me because I was also the receptionist for our office so I was in the front. My co-workers were allowed to have a radio and they listened to an oldies station all day; every time the Rolling Stones’ song “Brown Sugar” was played they went crazy, making funny faces and whispering to me. They knew how much I hated this horrible song.
One day, however, the funny stuff was over. My boss reprimanded me for talking too much and I was furious. That’s when my husband sat me down and told me that he needed help in his business and he would much prefer me to work side-by-side with him than a stranger. Peter is a mold-maker and sculptor, and he had just met Ernie Muehlmatt, a much-decorated, world class bird carver. Ernie sold his original wood carvings of birds for hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars; and there were a lot of people all over the United States who wanted a Muehlmatt bird but couldn’t pay that kind of money. That’s where we stepped in. Peter began making molds of Ernie’s birds in rubber. Sadly I left my fellow mole-rons ; but a new phase was going to begin in my life.
I was assigned to working personally with Ernie and for the next six years my life was dominated by birds. I made castings of birds every day; I was free to leave work at 3:00 PM to be home by the time the school bus came around the corner and my son walked up the driveway. And—surprise, surprise; I found early on that I loved my work. I loved using my hands which left my mind free, just like it was with being a medical transcriptionist. I loved getting dirty, covered with dust, coming home and throwing my dirty work clothes down the cellar steps, then hopping into the shower. By the time Michael came home I was ready to meet him at the door. I felt like a steel worker. Powerful stuff.
Ernie carved a “saw whet” owl and gave it to Peter for mold-making. Ernie told me that these tiny owls are called “saw whet” because of the screechy noises they make. Out of all the birds I made during this time, my favorite was the owl. For one thing, the mold that Peter constructed was elegant in shape and a lot of fun to use. Also, we had these plastic yellow owls’ eyes that we could insert into the eye sockets of the castings. This is the kind of fun that children have, “making stuff.”
Ernie gave me one of the owl castings and signed the bottom. It stands on my piano; it’s a cherished gift that serves as a reminder of those productive times, when Peter and I worked together and raised Michael in the way we thought was best. I felt so strongly about being at home in the after-school hours; it was a blessing that I was able to do this while liking the work I did.
Now that we live in the country we see and hear owls. Sometimes at dusk if you stand outside our house the hooting of an owl can be heard. It’s soft but distinct and every time I hear it I get chills all over. It’s a primitive sound from long ago. Recently Peter was driving home at night and he saw a great horned owl, crossing the windshield of the car, going out to hunt for food. Another sign that I interpret as a benevolent message from the other world.
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