People call Owl Moon Raptor Center at all hours asking what do with an injured owl, hawk or osprey they’ve found. Sometimes the bird is by the side of the road. Sometimes it’s struggling in a swimming pool or near a nest from which it just fell. Suzanne Shoemaker, 69, runs the operation out of her home in Boyds and answers day or night, then walks the caller through the rescue.
As a licensed master wildlife rehabilitator, Shoemaker instructs people on how to safely contain the bird and minimize contact until a volunteer transporter can bring it in for treatment.
Shoemaker, who founded the center in 2002 and serves as its executive director, has long been enamored with raptors. In 2014, she registered Owl Moon as a nonprofit organization dedicated to saving injured, sick and orphaned birds of prey and returning them to the wild. “They’re just such interesting animals. They have a lot of charisma,” Shoemaker says.
Last year was Owl Moon’s busiest ever, with staff and volunteers helping more than 600 birds. Many were starving baby ospreys, as an influx of industrial fishing boats scooped up fish in the Chesapeake Bay, making it hard for ospreys to get enough to feed their babies, Shoemaker says.
Development and traffic are also putting more raptors in danger as wildlife and humans try to share limited resources, she says. With demand for care increasing, Owl Moon is outgrowing its space and looking for a new location in order to expand. The center operates out of Shoemaker’s 555-square-foot basement, which houses the clinic treatment room, food prep room, cage room, laundry and storage. Out back, on the property’s 1 acre of usable land, there is a barn with a surgery and X-ray room, plus kennels for large birds. There are also three mews, enclosures where some birds recover and others that are used for educational purposes stay long term.
The center has found support for its work through grants from foundations and individual donors, and it maintains a deep roster of volunteers. Shoemaker says many share her fascination with raptors and feel an instant connection with an owl’s warm and cuddly, somewhat human-like appearance. Their sharp beaks and talons can make it tricky to treat them, but after so many years, Shoemaker says she’s able to predict their behavior and has become a little numb to the pain of an occasional bite.
The effort is worth it when a rehabilitated bird is released, Shoemaker says. “There’s nothing like it. You do feel their spirit,” she says. “It’s just really nice to see them where they are supposed to be, doing what they are supposed to do.”
When a bird arrives at Owl Moon Raptor Center, staff evaluate it and develop a treatment plan. Eye injuries are common. This adult osprey, Mayo, is being given antibiotic drops to prevent infection after sustaining a talon puncture wound near her eye. She was likely attacked by a bald eagle, leaving her eye swollen and bloody when she was found in the town of Mayo, Maryland, not far from Annapolis. Most birds are given the last name of the person who rescued them—Mayo was an exception.
“Life is tough out there on the bay for these guys. There are a lot of territorial bouts that go on, and especially during nesting season there is competition for food,” Shoemaker says. “Eagles try to steal the food from the osprey, and the osprey have to give it up lots of times because they are the better fishermen. The eagles have the size advantage.”
The clinic keeps a collection of feathers from birds that have died to implant into others whose feathers are badly damaged. The feathers are labeled by species, age and sex (female raptors are usually about 30% larger than males) to match with birds of the same characteristics. Once a bird’s broken feather is trimmed, a wooden dowel is inserted and glued into the feather shafts of both the remaining portion of the broken feather and the top end (or quill) of the replacement feather. This keeps it in place until the bird naturally molts the feather out in the spring.
The center’s laundry room is full of towels used to wrap birds during treatment and to provide comfort while they recover in cardboard boxes with small holes. During the rehabilitation process, care is taken to minimize human interaction with the birds to keep stress levels as low as possible. Here, Shoemaker holds a juvenile osprey that was found submerged in a horse-watering trough in Fulton, Maryland. He died four days later, possibly from pneumonia.
Malia Hale, 55, of Silver Spring holds Mayo, who has been in the center’s care for weeks. Hale started as a volunteer at the center in 2016 and is now the clinic director. She is one of two paid employees. (Shoemaker does not take a salary.)
Shoemaker secures Mayo while Catharine Reeves of Bethesda mists the osprey to cool her down before a test flight. Reeves, 63, has been a volunteer at the center since 2021 and serves on the board of directors. “I have a real love of birds. I learn something new about every time I come out here,” says the retired lawyer who cleans at the center, prepares food and sometimes transports injured birds. Owl Moon has about 50 volunteers who log about 10,000 total hours in a year, according to Shoemaker. “We can’t do this without the help of citizens and volunteers,” Shoemaker says. “There are a lot of good people out there—we appreciate them.”
Hale attempts a test flight with Mayo in a field across the street from the center. The bird is tied to a braided nylon line as it tries to fly a limited distance to get back into condition. Practice flights are repeated often until the bird is ready to start hunting. The first time Mayo was released, she was knocked into the water by another bird that had taken over the territory. Staff from the center retrieved her and readmitted her for a few days to recover. Mayo was successfully released later in another location—on high ground where she had an advantage over other birds.
Volunteers Christian Aliferis (left), 24, of Vienna, Virginia, and Claire Hartwig, 21, of Gaithersburg are gutting, cutting and preparing mice to be fed to the birds at the center. Each cup is filled, weighed and tracked for the individual patient. Many of the mice are surplus donated from a nearby laboratory and stored in the center’s freezer. Other food for the birds includes fish and quail. Aliferis recently graduated from Northern Virginia Community College and is pursuing his bachelor’s degree in zoology. Hartwig, who started as an intern and continues to volunteer, says she’s interested in a possible career in science communications, especially to dispel myths about wildlife in order to better protect them.
Genius, an emaciated red-shouldered hawk fledgling, is held as staff prepare to feed him a liquid diet. Food is reintroduced slowly to try to avoid overwhelming the bird’s digestive system. Despite the center’s efforts, Genius’ condition was so dire that he died within a few days.
The center set up an X-ray and surgery room in the barn last year. It purchased a portable X-ray machine that is used almost daily to assess birds for fractures and make treatment decisions.
Birds often come in with injuries to their wings and broken feathers. Some fly into windows; others become tangled in fishing lines. Staff try to repair and recondition them before release back into the wild.
Shoemaker (right) is working on LeMay, an adult osprey who had an injury to her right wrist joint. Tracey Callahan, 54, a volunteer who lives in Havre de Grace, Maryland, assists. Shoemaker says volunteers at the center come from as far as Pennsylvania and St. Mary’s County in Maryland, and others transport injured birds from great distances.
After being treated, birds are moved into mews where they can start flying again in an enclosed space. Some with serious wounds stay more than a year. Wink, a beloved great horned owl, has been at the center for five years. He has only one eye, so it would not be safe to return him to the wild, Shoemaker says.
Three barred owls perch in one of the mews as they regain their strength before being released into the wild. Owls often become injured when they fall out of their nest or sometimes get blown out of a nest during storms. If they break a leg or a wing, Shoemaker says the center often can treat the fracture and it heals in a few weeks. Staff and volunteers do all they can to rehabilitate the birds that come into the center, but many times the injuries are too severe for the birds to be reintroduced to the outdoors. Some are euthanized, and others are used for educational programs in the community or at a zoo if they are pain-free and have the right temperament.
Caralee Adams is a freelance writer based in Bethesda.
This appears in the January/February 2025 issue of Bethesda Magazine.
