Flaco was in similar locations on Sunday night, as he had been on Saturday night. It is hard to watch Flaco, hoot for hours knowing he will never find another Eurasian Eagle-Owl. He certainly is a stranger in a strange land. There isn’t much that can be done at this point. The genie is out of the bottle. Or maybe we need a new expression, the owl is out of the zoo.

Flaco is already a risk to native wildlife, and certainly would be if he had a mate, so it would be inappropriate to release a female Eurasian Eagle-Owl to join him. And of course if he bred, the offspring would be forced to mate with their siblings. So, introducing another owl isn’t a solution. (And for those thinking of introducing an infertile female owl might be a solution, even an infertile pair would be aggressive towards native wildlife, especially Peregrine Falcons.)

For those wishing he would mate with a native species, such as a Great Horned Owl, this is highly unlikely. Successful cross breeding of Eurasian Eagle-Owls with other bubo species, have only been recorded in captivity. And if Flaco had offspring with another bubo species, it could corrupt the gene pool for native species.

This is what happens when you glorify a criminal act, and create an environment where a zoo is allowed to abandon its responsibility to recover an animal in its collection.

I’ve been either getting brief glimpses of Flaco, or just missing him by an hour or two over the last week. So, it was delightful to quickly find him and spend three hours watching him on Saturday night into early Sunday morning. He was hooting on buildings within a few blocks of 86th Street and Central Park West.

Flaco was hooting from backside of buildings on Riverside Drive between 89th and 90th and then on 250 West 90th Street when I went to look for him. Eventually he flew north, possibly to hunt in a courtyard.

February 2nd marks the first anniversary of the vandalism that released him from his cage in the zoo. I suspect we’ll see lots of stories in the news media about how wonderful it is that Flaco has survived in the city. But I doubt we’ll see much real journalism. Individuals, institutions and the media have time and time again put their self interests over Flaco’s welfare.

It’s been amazing to get to know Flaco over the last year. He is stunningly beautiful and studying his behavior has been fascinating. And of course, his ability to survive in Manhattan has surprised everyone. But the story is much more complicated than a caged bird, now free to explore the world.

Flaco is living a life in purgatory now. He is in a dangerous environment without any chance of interacting with other of his species. And he could easily become a threat to local species.

No native Eurasian Eagle-Owl hoots as much as Flaco does. He’s confused. Sadly there may be now happy ending to this story. Unless he returned to Central Park in the spring, it would be difficult to capture him and place him in a sanctuary.

Folks can love him to death on social media, but it won’t keep him from dying prematurely from rodenticides.

I arrived after having dinner with friends to hear Flaco from West End Avenue around 88th Street. I couldn’t find him, as his sound echos making it hard to find him, but I did see him fly out towards 90th Street. He hooted for hours from 250 West 90th, using three locations on the building. My video from the night is short. The street noise from Broadway and the questions from many curious New Yorkers, made if difficult to record him hooting.

Flaco continues to roost and hoot after fly out around West End Avenue in the upper 80s and lower 90s. He spent most of the evening on 250 West 90th again, but also explored a few water tanks and other perches. He was in a fog bank for about twenty minutes and in one of the pictures below you can see his missing and damaged primary feathers on his right wing.

I heard Flaco early in the evening hooting from near 565 West End Avenue, but couldn’t find him. I explored the neighborhood but didn’t find him and decided to check out other location he’s been visiting and get dinner. I then retuned to West End Avenue and found him on 250 West 90th Street. He hooted for about twenty minutes before he flew to a building at 91st and Riverside before flying south. I couldn’t relocate him.