At one time, when I was just a kid, maybe 8-10 years old, there was a pheasant hatchery at the large Carlos Avery WMA just north of the twin cities. A great horned owl was in the habit of flying back and forth hooting at the contained pheasants, which, would panic them, and they would rush at the chicken wire, getting their heads stuck in the holes in it. The owl would land and just walk along tearing heads off pheasants, and consuming them.
Im not sure what ever happened to the hatchery, but, the remains of the pens are still there, near the headquarters. I clearly remember walking along with my Dad, seeing dead pheasants, and the explanation the game warden gave us for what had happened to them.
Dad belonged to the generation that had no time for predators.
Best,
Ted
