It had been a terrible day for this Tawny Frogmouth, getting caught behind a fence, having to walk a ways to take flight once I'd ripped out the offending  piece of fencing, resting in the Jacarandah tree where he was attacked by every other bird in the garden while I batted around from an upstairs window frightening off the marauders before he finally flew down for a footbath in the water bowl. After this we gently wrapped him in a towel and took him to the Vets to recover. Picking him up, he seemed 95 percent feather, five percent night.