Illustration by Arnie Bermudez

It's inevitable that as Tucson grows, housing developers will take over greater stretches of wilderness. As more homes sprout up from the desert, it's not just buyers who pay the price; Arizona wildlife is also footing the bill, but with its very existence.

This week, it is the humble northwest side pygmy owl that has grabbed headlines. It's been on the endangered species list since 1997. At that time, the owl's dwindling population prompted a federal plan to set aside 1.2 million acres northwest of Tucson as the owl's stomping ground.

Sabrina Noble Columnist

However, that land is also prime building territory; its scenic vistas make it as attractive to would-be homeowners as it is to owls. In the past, the U.S. District Court protected the endangered listing from Southern Arizona Home Builders' Association lawsuits.

But last Tuesday, the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals opened the way to remove the owl's protected status ÷ a move that must be making developers positively salivate over the possibilities. The decision also led to the arrest of Kiernan Suckling, the executive director of the Center for Biological Diversity, after he allegedly pushed someone while protesting at a home builders' association news conference. The protesters came dressed as owls.

So why are developers trying to push the poor pygmy owl out of the picture? Well, the owls' federal protection and the reserved land that status necessitates is all that stands between builders and vast areas of tract housing on highly desirable property. Which means money's on the line, and lots of it.

Developers would have us believe that opening up the land will result in much more affordable housing if only the owls would step ÷ or fly ÷ aside. Since they'll be able to build much more once all that land loses its reserved status, the benefits will shower down upon us.

But county officials and biologists ÷ or the ones who aren't working for developers, anyway ÷ insist this isn't so. The land has such high property values that, at best, prices won't rise; they certainly won't fall.

But what does all this mean for the pygmy owls? Their population has been steadily shrinking since 1999, and is currently at a low of 18 for the second year in a row. That's right, there are only 18 pygmy owls recorded statewide. And yet, with enough brazen and deliberate propaganda to impress anyone, developers assure us that the owls will fare just fine on their own.

Biologists representing the Southern Arizona Home Builders' Association added in a report criticizing the preservation that there are probably 12 more owl locations on O'Odham land that weren't counted. If there are 30 owls statewide, they must surely be making a solid comeback, right? Break out the bulldozers, the owls can take it.

Of course, biologists not affiliated with developers state the opposite: that without positive human intervention, the pygmy owl will cease to exist. How inconvenient, then, that the owls should live on such valuable land. Someone ought to notify them that they'd be better off somewhere else, where they won't be eaten by cats or hit by cars.

After all, those little owls can always relocate to O'Odham land, which will stave off hungry developers for much longer than elsewhere. What a typical and careless solution. I hope the owls will understand it. Maybe we can post signs to guide them to their new home if we have time in between building our own houses right over their nesting grounds.

Or maybe some of us can take the time to write our government representatives and request continued protection in order to rescue a valuable species from ourselves. The pygmy owl sincerely hopes we choose the latter.

What this issue boils down to, in the end, is more than the pygmy owls' uphill struggle for survival ÷ one that only we can help them win. It's also about man's reckless pursuit of money and homes with nice views, regardless of what our westward-facing picture windows mean we may never see again. After taking so much, can we make no concessions to the overlooked wildlife?

Developers may say they want to help out homebuyers, but it's safe to bet their motivation is not quite so altruistic. And even if home prices do manage to drop on the northwest side from their steady average of $200,000, rest assured that someone is definitely picking up the tab.

Don't let that someone be the luckless pygmy owls. They're already nearly bankrupt as is.

Sabrina Noble is an English and creative writing senior. She can be reached at letters@wilcat.arizona.edu.