The Owl and The Mouse
By Valerie L. Egar
The tiny mouse
wandered through the meadow foraging for seeds to eat. Sunshine filtered
through the tall grass and warmed his grey fur. Hidden from hawks and eagles, he remained
alert. He knew foxes frolicked in the meadow. Even the youngest ones were quick
enough to pounce and catch him.
His
ears pricked up. “Tu-who! Who! Tu-who!”
The mouse knew the call of the horned owl well— owls were not friends to mice.
But, the owl slept during the day. To
hear one calling in daylight was unusual. The mouse was curious. Instead of
running away or hiding, he crept towards the sound.
He’d
heard children imitate crows and ducks. Maybe someone was imitating an owl?
The
mouse hid under a bush and listened. “Who! Tu-who!”
“Don’t
stand there! Run!” a chipmunk chattered as he scrambled by. “That’s an owl,
dummy!”
The
mouse frowned. “I know that!” He looked at the chipmunk. “I even know what kind
of owl and I’ll bet you don’t.”
The
chipmunk shrugged. “You’re right I don’t. I call him ‘Chipmunk Slayer’ and
that’s enough for me. I’m outta here!”
A red squirrel skittered by. “Come on, get
out of here!” he shouted to the mouse.
The
mouse shrugged. “The owl can’t do
anything,” he replied. “Do you know what happened?”
“Kite
string,” whispered the squirrel. “The kite was caught in a tree and he got
tangled in the string.”
For
a long time, the mouse watched the owl from his hideaway in the bush. The owl tugged
at the string to undo it, but the string only grew tighter as he pulled. The
owl grew frantic at his inability to fly and exhausted himself flapping one
wing.
That mice were a
favorite menu choice for owls did not comfort the mouse, but he knew he could
easily cut the string with his sharp teeth. What a story that would be! How brave others
would think him when they heard he approached the great owl, stood next to his
mighty talons and survived!
The mouse approached
the owl. “I can help, if you will allow
me,“ he whispered.
The owl was tired
and had almost given up hope. “How can you help me?”
“Why would you
help me?” the owl asked. “You know I eat mice.”
“Yes,” the mouse
said. “But not me I hope.” The mouse did not tell the owl that he imagined lady
mice swooning at his bravery. That he might write a book about saving the owl. That
he expected all eyes would turn his way wherever he went after his owl adventure.
“It’s a lot to
expect,” said the owl. “I promise not to
hurt you, but I suggest you run and hide as soon as you’ve chewed through the
last piece of twine. I’m hungry and I don’t know how well I can control my owl
nature.”
In a few bites, the twine was in pieces and fell from the owl’s wing and from his legs. The mouse scrambled into the high weeds as the owl advised.
In a few bites, the twine was in pieces and fell from the owl’s wing and from his legs. The mouse scrambled into the high weeds as the owl advised.
“Thank you mouse,”
the owl called as he flew away. “Your kindness has saved me, but killed a
thousand of your brothers.”
After that, the
mouse told his story about the owl under the summer stars and on moonlit winter
nights to all who would listen. Mice from far and near marveled at his daring—
speaking to a great owl! What bravery! Who among them would walk so near those
sharp talons? Who would dare chew twine from an owl’s wing? And of course, in
the mouse’s story, the owl flew away dipping his wings in praise, saying
nothing.
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Copyright 2019 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied, reproduced or distributed without permission from the author.
Published January 26, 2019 Biddeford Journal Tribune (Biddeford, ME).
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