Emcee: Ladies and gentlemen, the Barn Owl of North America, Tyto furcata.
Thank you for coming today, folks. This is my first press conference about my species so bear with me if I appear a trifle nervous. To be honest, however, I will use any excuse to get away from my screeching fledglings, even if it means answering species questions in public. Speaking of my fledglings, they're at that awkward stage where they spend most of the day away from the nest but they still come back at nights for handouts -- which means they're still screeching at their parents mercilessly on a daily basis. It makes me wonder why you human beings speak so slightingly of empty-nest syndrome. My mate and I are like, "Bring it on!" when it comes to empty-nest syndrome. That is a consummation devoutly to be wished, as far as she and I are concerned.
Anywhoooo....
Before I start taking questions, I would like to remind you that my species won the 2025 award for Eeriest Vocalization in a North American Owl at the annual North American Owl Awards ceremony at Tufts University in Massachusetts1. So all that screeching apparently serves some purpose other than that of driving us Barn Owl parents insane.
Yes, sir, you.
Isn't the Barn Owl one of the most widespread owl species in the world?
You know something, that is just so true. You sayest but sooth, as my medieval forebears might have put it. In fact, I was just looking at a distribution map from the Owls Trust of the United Kingdom, which shows that my species is to be found throughout South America, Europe, India, Africa, and even in Australia. In fact, the Australian Museum claims that my species is the most widespread owl in the entire world, showing up on every continent except for Antarctica2.
And yet I understand that you are NOT the most widespread owl in North America?
Sadly, no. The most widespread owl in North America is actually the Great Horned Owl, which, in fact, won the award in that category at this year's North American Owl Awards. We Barn Owls have the continental United States "sewn up," so to speak. But we are scarcely found in Canada at all, with the exception of our small presence in the tippy tippy southern portions of British Columbia and Ontario.
Tippy tippy?
I should also point something out here, namely, the fact that we are not necessarily a numerous species of owl just because we are widespread. As a case in point, I refer you to a 2021 online article from Wisconsin Public Radio significantly entitled: "'The most amazing find': First Barn Owl nest in over 20 years confirmed in Wisconsin"3.
This is changing the subject, but...
By all means, carry on.
...I hear that Barn Owls do not chew their food, but that they swallow it whole instead. Is this true?
Yes, that is correct. However, this is true of all owls, not just Barn Owls.
I see.
Mind you, we owls sometimes pick our food apart before swallowing it, especially if the critter in question is too large to swallow whole.
Comprendo.
I hear that the Northern Pygmy Owl, for instance, will actually tear out the brains of some birds, like the California Quail, and swallow them by themselves rather than scarfing down the entire carcass.
Gotcha.
I don't want to spoil anybody's appetites, but I hear they will also tear the intestines out of certain bugs and swallow them by themselves rather than scarfing down the entire insect.
Ewwww!
Ahem. So there's THAT.
But do owls swallow bones as well?
Do we owls swallow bones?! When it comes to swallowing bones, we make no bones about it! Ha ha!
How's that?
I mean, yes, we do swallow most critters, bones and all.
Isn't that uncomfortable?
Nah. You see, we then isolate the bones in our so-called gizzards and spit them back up later in the form of owl pellets, as your scientists like to call them.
And you're talking about all owls here, not just Barn Owls?
Correcto-mundo.
Correcto-mundo? Do all owls use slang like that?
What? This may come as a surprise to you, but most owls do not even talk, let alone use slang.
Oh, that's right, I almost forgot. I guess you have such a silver tongue that I forgot that you are something of a one-off when it comes to oratory.
Hey, what can I say? That's why I earn the big bucks.
Right.
One more question and then I've got to fly back to Ted McCormick's modular barn to feed my fledglings. Yes, you, sir.
You say your species is rare in Canada. How rare exactly are you in Canada?
Well, a Canadian website called Nature Counts claims that there are about a thousand of us Barn Owls in southern British Columbia4.
I see.
But disturbingly, there seem to be only about 20 of us in Ontario.
Comprendo.
Comprendo, huh? And you talk about ME using slang.
Help! I've been split in three -- three species, that is! The time-honored designation of Tyto alba will no longer apply to the 3.6 million Barn Owls worldwide. I will now be known as Tyto furcata, the American Barn Owl, while my former namesakes in the Old World, the Western and Eastern Barn Owls, will henceforth be designated as Tyto alba and Tyto javanica respectively. At least that's the latest word from the North American Classification Committee of the American Ornithological Society1.
The ebird website at Cornell University says that the change was "overdue"2, but I for one was perfectly happy with the status quo: Tyto alba uber alles, say I. And somebody please tell me why they called me Tyto furcata, anyway? Do I look like I have a forked tail? Still, we Barn Owls are in good company. We're just one of over a dozen bird species that the society split up this year, taxonomically speaking. The Brown Booby, the Cattle Egret, and the House Wren all shared the same fate.
Of course, most species splits of this kind are based on genetics, but the committee also determined that my display call was unique, something that they had never heard from my former namesakes in the Old World, a sort of "kleak kleak" as they were pleased to call it3. Naturally, I am flattered, but I am sure that the Western and Eastern Barn Owls have their own unique fortes. Anyway, I like to focus on what we Barn Owls have in common: our striking pancake-shaped faces, for instance, and our big black eyes, our penchant for old beat-up barns and our loping flight.
What's in a name, anyway? Surely a Barn Owl of any other species would hoot just as eerily, right? But Tyto furcata?! What were they THINKING!?
Editor's note: My initial research suggests that the designation "furcata" was applied to the Barn Owl by Dutch zoologist Coenraad Jacob Temminck. However, I have yet to find an ornithologically oriented website that describes the Barn Owl tail as forked. In fact, even the Audubon website calls it rounded, short, and square-tipped4.