Something like this:

Sunday, February 11, 2007

BARRED OWL

I work hard for my money. So hard for it, honey. I work hard for my money, so you better let me sleep in on the weekend. Unless, of course, there's a big owl sitting in the pines outside the apartment.

Such was the case this morning. I'm woken by Iris coming in with the dog. "GET UP! THERE'S AN OWL OUTSIDE!" She then leaves with the camera. "Coffee?" I say, meekly, to the closed door.

I get dressed and go outside. "Take your time," she says sarcastically. I look up, and there he was. To get his attention, Iris says in her best owl impression, "Who cooks for You! Who cooks for You!" Doesn't work. I, however, am the Beastmaster. I know the language of owls.

Spanish.

"Hey, mi amigo! Como esta? Mira aqui con sus ojos grandes!"

That worked. He looked right at me. Then he swooped down, silently, and ripped my scalp off.

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