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The Wise Old Owl

An unlikely friendship—but one worth remembering.

By Katherine CarusoPublished 5 years ago 3 min read
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Great-Horned Owl Family Photo by Paul Danaher

There was a wise old owl fidgeting in a tree—making a nest for her and her babies to rest. This wise old owl always stared at me from the tree, almost deciding if she could trust someone like me. Later on in the day on my way home from school, I looked at the tree and I heard a "crack, crack, crack," and then I see tiny little furry heads just begging to hatch.

There was a wise old owl sitting in a tree, shielding her babies from the likes of me. This wise old owl never looked away—keeping her babies warm and safe. The wise old owl always stared at me, with her big old eyes kind of scaring me.

Weeks went by and then one day, this wise old owl flew down as if to say, "Thank you for not hurting me." Now this owl had a wound on her leg and a hole on her beak—but somehow this owl trusted me.

There was a wise old owl sitting on a tree, feeding her babies so happily, then along came a hawk and scooped all her babies up—the poor mamma owl thought she lost all she got. She flew after the hawk going "squawk, squawk, squawk," and the hawk let go, and all the babies plopped.

The wise old owl was quite shocked when she saw me putting her babies back up. All the baby owls now safe and sound—away from the hawk, they rejoiced with a "squawk, squawk, squawk." But the wise old owl had second thoughts. Before flying back up, she had one last stop—she flew to me and landed on my arm, nudging on my neck to say, "Thanks for bringing my babies back."

There was a wise old owl sitting in a tree, and on my way to school I felt her looking at me—I turned my head and what do I see? Mama and her babies are flying after me. I got to the bus stop with a smile—but then along came the new kid, and guess what he did? He picked up a rock and he threw it at me, then he picked up a stick and started chasing after me—I was in tears and so afraid. Off in the distance I hear a "hoo, hoo, hoo."

It was the wise old owl looking at me—observing how rude some people can be. She swooped down with a "caw, caw, caw" and the new kid ran away screaming "ah, ah, ah." I let out a laugh and wiped my eyes, looked up at the owl, and said, "You are so nice." Half hour past, and the school bus didn't show—no school today! Hip hip hooray! With that, the owls and I walked away.

There was a wise old owl sitting in a tree. All her babies grew up and left the tree, so now it was just the wise old owl and me. There was a wise old owl sitting in a tree, letting the breeze flow under her wings. The wise old owl flew away one night—above the trees and out of sight, I saw her silhouette in the light of the moon. I went to bed wishing I'd see her again soon.

There was an empty branch where the owl once lived—I can't explain the sadness I felt from within. After school I looked in the tree to find no other then the owl waiting for me. My heart skipped a beat, I was so happy—but the wise old owl was hurt real bad. I couldn't bare the thought of losing the best friend I've ever had.

The poor little owl flew down to me and landed in my arms so gracefully. The poor little thing had a wound so deep, but she looked at me and then peacefully went to sleep.

I cried so much when her heart failed to beat—so I buried her under her favorite tree. I said a prayer and the sun did shine. I'll miss this wise little friend of mine.

wild animals
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