On Flaco: The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long…
- Nancy Garay
- Mar 2, 2024
- 10 min read
Updated: Mar 5, 2024
I’d never thought I‘d be reminded of a Blade-runner quote when thinking about an owl, but here we are.
In that film (for those unfamiliar), replicants (sentient biological replicas of humans) were produced by a corporation solely for human use & enjoyment without concern for their feelings or the questionable ethics of bestowing them with expiration dates. I think you’ll see why this theme might have come to mind.
Flaco, the Eurasian Eagle-owl that escaped his vandalized enclosure a little more than a year ago and explored freely around NYC (to the absolute delight of New Yorkers and his worldwide fans), died tragically on Feb 24th after suffering what was presumptively determined (according to the initial necropsy report) as “acute traumatic injury”. What ultimately caused his death is still up for debate—a building/window collision? A fall from a day-time roost due to a poisoning? Some combination of the two perhaps? Only the final toxicology report will tell.
After his assisted escape on Feb 2nd, 2023, Flaco gained near-instant celebrity—and I saw more than one publication refer to him as “the most famous bird in the world”. That’s a pretty insane statement considering before that, he was just another big owl in a too-small enclosure that people briefly shuffled past at the Central Park Zoo.
It’s easy to understand why Flaco became famous in the city he lived in—but didn’t really become a part of—until February 2023.
Firstly, he was a big bird—and big birds are easy for people to see, even without binoculars or fancy telephoto lenses. His name was unique enough without being overly goofy for the average person to use in conversation…do you think he would he have been as popular if he was “The Great Gazoo” or “Floof”? He was also exotic—meaning, he was not just another owl—he was a special owl—one that we don’t have here in the United States.
I would contend that had Flaco been a smaller bird, a less charismatic bird, or just a more “ho-hum” bird, either he would never have been marked for freedom and/or no one outside diehard birders would have really paid much attention. But Flaco was a total package that was hard for people to ignore. He was just a damn gorgeous bird.
As I mentioned in one of my own tweets the morning after his death, it seemed to me that he was a tragic figure long before his escape and subsequent demise. His loss brought to the fore the many, many failures and missed opportunities that humans have had to do better/do right by our wilder neighbors—both those in captivity as well as the free who do their best to live their lives despite us.
His story didn’t have to end this way, and yet nearly every birder knew it would end precisely this way, because his story is that of a billion birds or more that live in (or navigate through) human-dominated environments. The moment he left his cage, (and as heart-wrenching as it was to think anticipate), the countdown to his expiration date began.
Yes, he was free—but also free to suffer and endure the perils facing all birds. Many others have already covered those issues thoroughly, but the threats from building/structure/window collisions and poisoning (the two most relevant here) are long-standing problems that birds have faced, with very little headway made to reduce or resolve them over recent decades (despite some solutions being as absurdly simple as turning out lights at night during migration).
I think that was also another reason some may be having a harder time coping with the loss—the death of this handsome and much-loved renegade was not spectacular…or inspiring…or even witnessed. He’d become this almost mythical creature, so when his time came, the manner did not fit his status—like a celebrated daredevil who’s cheated death a thousand times only to meet his end from a drunk driver. He died the death that comes for so many birds…birds with no names and no stories…no followers or events to mark their ends. As dazzling and large his life was outside a cage, his final chapter was a story we’ve sadly read before.
But to be very clear—his life out the cage was indeed thrilling to watch and follow.
Though Flaco was 13 years old when he ventured though the slashed wire of his enclosure, in many ways, he was similar to a fledgling. Previously, his basic needs were attended to by his caretakers, just as his original parents cared for him in the brooding nest. He never needed to evade a predator, find & catch his food, locate a safe roost, or weather a raging storm. Because of that, many assumed his life outside the zoo would be short.
But the heart of several million years of evolution-honed instinct was still beating in this bird just two generations removed from a wild ancestor.
Once freed, Flaco became the bird he always was.
From his first tenuous days, where his undeveloped muscles left him unable to fly more than short distances, to his first successful catch of a live rat, to his eventual ability to deftly navigate among the towering oaks of Central Park as well as the rooftops & water towers of the upper west side, he enthralled us. His year of freedom saw him pack a lifetime of pent-up “owl-hood” into an accelerating display of intelligence, resilience, and resourcefulness, all while being as handsome as all get-out in between. In the weeks before his death, he was often seen and heard hooting from rooftops—a sign he was advertising for a mate—and my heart broke every time I heard it. And what’s worse, is even if he were to have remained a captive bird, he was pre-destined to never have a mate.
Which brings us closer to where the tragedy for Flaco began.
Flaco was a captive bred bird, and was never intended for wild reintroduction. He was a bird who functionally belonged nowhere. Neither wild, nor tame, he was ill-suited for life within his absurdly small cage and ill-prepared for the world outside it. The life that was chosen for him was to be an object.
The AZA-led program that produces Eurasian Eagle-Owls for zoos and institutions operates on the proposal these birds are being bred for conservation purposes—but a closer look at the program makes that statement somewhat questionable.
When examining the meager documentation on the program, we do see a decent number of birds listed as “ambassador birds”. Science outreach & communication is absolutely a worthy and noble purpose that can be a legitimate goal of a breeding program, where birds are used to educate the public about the species, or threats facing birds in general. For instance, anyone wishing to interact with Flaco’s younger brother Camo (who’ll turn 10 on 4/9 this year), can do so at the Livingston Ripley Waterfowl Conservancy in Litchfield, CT—where he enjoys free-flight time, and a large enclosure (also affording him the opportunity to dine on any unlucky rodent who wanders in). But most of the Eurasian Eagle-owls in the AZA breeding program are not ambassador birds, including Flaco.
For birds not slated for outreach purposes, life is a question mark—will you be a bird intended to be a breeding machine?, or will you end up in a zoo (possibly an unaccredited one)?, or find yourself with a private collector? Where you end up may predict the entire course of your life, for better—or sometimes—much worse.
Whiles some zoos have clearly done excellent work in providing appropriate & stimulating environments for their birds and animals, many have not. The idea of shoving a large, intelligent bird like Flaco into the equivalent of a closet to live a life of endless, dispiriting, boredom is a concept that I thought died out with the roadside petting zoo.
It’s unsettling when going through the documents now after Flaco’s passing, especially when you see how these birds are represented, and where he was officially known as “#151”.
You can see where he was noted as “DO NOT BREED.”
You can locate and review the hatch dates and locations of Flaco’s many siblings (i.e. all birds born to his parents Xena and Watson, #84 and #82 respectively). But there’s something even more unsettling as you start to read through and realize these dates and numbers are all real sentient beings, with all of them every bit as interesting and worthy of celebration as Flaco, but no one is telling their stories—or for some, those stories have already ended.
In particular, I noticed bird #150, Flaco’s brother born 3/25/2009 and who died 4/13/2016 at just 7 years old (in what should be the prime of his life) at World Bird. No name is recorded.
Then there’s #243, another Flaco sibling born 3/29/2012 and who died 4/25/2013, just shy of his 1st birthday (again, at World Bird). No one bothered recording the sex of this young bird without a name.
#184 , Flaco’s sister born 6/15/2008, is not listed among the living birds but it’s quite possible she’s alive and the owner simply opted out of the AZA breeding program. We have no idea what happened to her or where she may be, as the last piece of information listed is shown as a “transfer” and the recipient shown as ”Unknown”.
Flaco’s closest sibling, #185, was a female born just 3 months after Flaco on 6/15/2010 and is presumed to be owned by a professional falconer on the east coast. The falconer is also shown to have received Flaco’s younger male sibling, #254, born 4/9/2014. Whether he still has possession of these birds or whether they are both alive is unknown.
The other worrying aspect that became more obvious when looking through the program documentation available was that the data is a mess. Wrong names, or different names for the same bird ID found in the same document, the incredibly curious repeat of certain dates given for births or deaths (with 6/15 being a date seen repeatedly and likely some sort of dummy data), and dates of death listed yet nowhere for the causes to be captured. I find this last particular point strange in the context of scientific research…if these birds are being bred for superior genetics, wouldn’t they want to know if a bird died of some disorder, disease, or due to a possible inherited genetic issue? Isn’t this the point of their breeding operations—to produce healthier birds?
Sinbad and Martina (Flaco’s maternal grandparents) were noted in a recent article as being deceased—but in the Population Analysis & Breeding and Transfer Plan document, dated July 18th 2017, they were listed in the breeding matrix. If they passed away, it occurred after 2017. I suppose it’s possible newer versions of these documents exist and/or are no longer available publicly (which is ideally the case), but there is no indication I have seen anywhere that indicates this. If 2017 is truly the last year this data was updated and disseminated, it would seem that 6+ years is a lot of time to avoid recording anything about birds involved in an ongoing breeding program. However, if these documents are at all indicative of the integrity of the data going into the research subjects, I can’t imagine that the output is very reliable.
Some of the perplexing data issues I ran across…
Here we have #149 (another Flaco sibling) listed as “Stan” in the studbook but as “Esmerelda” in breeding plan document.
Next we have birds #199 and #200. Owl #199 (a Flaco sibling) is listed in the studbook as “Aurora”, but in the breeding analysis document, we see this bird listed as a male bird named “Amaru”. We can see that “Aurora” is actually a female with ID #200.
But the above gets worse! We see “Aurora” now mixed up with “Morrissey” in the studbook, and “Morrissey” mixed up with “Boston” (all of these birds are Flaco siblings).
But by far, the most interesting document was this page from the Sustainability Report:
This one page tells us so much information. We see that “Urban” type habitat is a known biome for the Eurasian Eagle-owl—perhaps why Flaco was able to adapt so easily to NYC? We also see this species listed with the IUCN status of “Least Concern”—meaning conservation measures and interventions are NOT necessarily required, so why do we really have this aggressive breeding program to begin with? These birds are very popular with private collectors, so I think the answer may be as clear as it looks.
We also see the housing/enclosure recommendations: 400 sq ft minimum, and best housed in pairs! Yet another way Flaco was failed.
Then we notice the section marked “Messaging Opportunities”, where “Human-wildlife conflict” is listed…for not being deemed “worthy” of being an ambassador bird, I think Flaco delivered this message more effectively than any other bird could. But also on this list is the word “Reintroduction”, meaning these birds are being used for that purpose. Yet, on the very next page, we see it…there under the section “Reintroduction”:
“A handful of reintroductions of captive bred owls have occurred in Europe. There is no need, however, for AZA-bred birds to be utilized in any future introduction programs.”
And there it is.
A breeding & reintroduction program that does all breeding, no reintroduction.
So, this whole thing—Flaco’s life, all these birds lives—managed and manipulated to simply produce birds for WHAT?
After reading this, my heart has broken for Flaco (again), as well as every bird detailed in these pages. So many lives reduced to just numbers, stats, and almost assuredly---$$$. Yes, I’m sure some live vibrant lives and have wonderfully attentive care at whatever facility or institution may hold them—but it would seem that would be the exception, not the rule. We need to change this and we must do better.
And there was one last thing I saw flipping through the pages: these birds live much shorter lives than what I’ve seen reported. I even repeated those same incorrect statistics—that wild birds could be expected to live to 20 and captive birds to 60—after reading it repeatedly, but after seeing the data from the AZA, this is clearly incorrect.
For 62 birds with both birth & death records, nearly a quarter in the breeding program died in their first twelve months; 53% died before the age of 10, and 76% of captive birds didn’t live to age 20! I think I need to track down exactly where this misinformation on life expectancy originated, as it doesn’t appear to be supported by the data from the AZA breeding program. If this data can be relied upon (and maybe it can’t), it would seem the Flaco may have in fact lived close to his maximum longevity—which makes his final year of being the badass owl he was always meant to be all the more glorious. It also makes his 12 years of dismal captivity all the more egregious.
Flaco has now become a legend—and rightfully earned. He captivated and fascinated us, ostensibly by doing nothing more than doing “owly” things, against the odds where the deck was stacked against him from the start. It’s amazing he was able to pull it off as long as he did—extraordinary in fact. But that wild heart still beat in him—and we got to witness the life he was denied by the circumstance of his birth. He told us his story—and how I wish other owls in this program (as well as all animals relegated to lifetime captivity) could be free to tell us theirs. He will not be forgotten—and what he’s brought to light cannot be ignored.
The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long…and you have burned so very, very brightly, Flaco.
Source Links:
Population Analysis & Breeding and Transfer Plan - Eurasian Eagle Owl (Bubo bubo), AZA Species Survival Plan®., Yellow Program
AZA Studbook for Eurasian Eagle-Owl
Sustainability Report
Website
Links to Ripley Waterfowl Conservancy: https://www.ripleyconservancy.org/
Wow! Just shocking. Thank you for this great well-researched article. I can’t believe this is only coming to light now.
Great research and article.
Passionate, informative, well-researched article about Flaco, the hero symbol of our time!