The long-eared owl isn't usually known for its friendliness. Its grumpiness has earned it a reputation as an hombre — someone not to be messed with.

But on this particular Tuesday, the owl, tucked in a cage along with other educational critters at The Wildlife Center, happened to be on its best behavior. The normally nocturnal hunter even struck a pose for photos.

It could be because the owl now has a name — Radar — thanks to volunteer Alice Farley and those who cast their votes in favor of that name during an October contest.

Farley, a retired professor of American literature, came up with three names for the bird — Doctor Who, the renegade time-traveling alien character featured in movies and a television series; and Ben-Hur, the character in New Mexico Gov. Lew Wallace's 1880 book of the same name (Farley said she particularly liked the name because the owl's gender is unknown. "Ben if it was a boy and Hur if it was a girl. Plus, it was written by the governor who had to write it at night because Billy the Kid was gunning for him.").

Radar, however, was the most popular name for the owl of the more than 65 names entered in the contest. The tufts on the owl's head look like antennae, Farley said, and the big round eyes mimicked the character Radar O'Reilly's glasses in the movie and television series M*A*S*H.

"There were so many good suggestions, I didn't think I had much of a chance," Farley said. "My own husband didn't vote for it, so it was a pleasant surprise."

The bird, found injured and dehydrated from the Taos area about two years ago, underwent extensive surgery in the center's intensive-care unit. A wing bone had to be removed and it spent months in recovery.

Because of its injuries, there was little chance for rehabilitation into the wild, so it became one of the center's educational animals, joining about 25 birds and mammals who live year-round at the center north of Santa Fe. The animals are the centerpiece of the nonprofit's more than 120 educational programs and 400 public tours.

But the bird lacked a name, so Cheryl Bell, a development associate, turned to the public for help.

Farley was one of several volunteers and workers at the center who had strong ideas about what to name the bird. A volunteer since summer, Farley and her husband, John, a retired sociology professor, are slowly transitioning to moving permanently to Northern New Mexico from southern Illinois.

A longtime wildlife supporter, Alice Farley now physically helps out at the center by cleaning cages whenever she's in town. She hasn't cleaned Radar's cage yet, she said, but is quite familiar with the others.

"I've always found that most animals, wild or otherwise, feel very comfortable around me," she said. "I don't have any problems with them."

Farley's enthusiasm for wildlife is something new executive director Katherine Eagleson said she hopes to capitalize upon. She hopes to expand the center's educational programs and involve more of the community.

"We have really wonderful people here," she said. "A lot of good energy and good ideas. We could do a little better in respectfully entertaining all those ideas and providing a forum for people to share those ideas."

Increasing awareness about wildlife, especially proper habitat, is also critical. "We need to be more involved in conservation efforts in Northern New Mexico," she said. "We can make a difference. We're good about rehabilitating animals, and that's always going to be a part of our mission, but if we can't restore the habitat and can't assure appropriate release, then the rest of it is just feel-good work."

The educational animals help people get a firsthand look at wildlife and understand where wildlife fits in with the environment. Long-eared owls like Radar, for example, are prevalent, but are rarely seen, Eagleson said.

Owls are among the most difficult to train because they have few needs, said animal trainer Scott Bol. "With owls, you're just lucky to train them to be calm on your fist," Bol said. "There's not much we can give them."

Much of wildlife training involves operant conditioning, Bol said, much like clicker training with canines. The core idea is to use an animal's natural behavior to train in a positive way that doesn't put them in a stressful position.

Nature's at fault for the lack of success with training owls. The birds are the most physically equipped for being ultimate killing machines — with the best hearing and eyesight coupled with unusually strong talons — so that owls don't have to think much about their prey.

"All they have to do is see it," Bol said. "They don't have to figure out how to kill it. They are so quiet that the animals they are going after don't see it."

Farley, living in southern Illinois on a bird migratory path that follows the Mississippi River, said she often took her grandchildren to a sanctuary in the area that helped rehabilitate injured birds. But working full-time left her with little extra time for volunteering.

"About all I could do was donate money," Farley said. "But the nice thing about retiring is that it's freed up the time that I can do something."