Would You Believe It?

The owl didn’t hoot, he sang Bohemian Rhapsody every night in the depths of the deep dark wood, close to the town on the hill. The only problem was, although he had a magnificent singing voice the other creatures in the forest, including myself, couldn’t get to sleep and this made everyone fractious.

For the first week they tolerated it, as forest animals are known to be fans of Freddie Mercury and Queen, but the same rendition night after night was taking it’s toll on their tolerance levels. If the owl had thrown in an occasional ‘We Will Rock You’ or ‘We Are The Champions’ I don’t think they would have objected so much.

Angry, and with sleep deprived red swollen eyes, they knocked on my cabin door at 3 o’clock in the morning and demanded I take some action.

Sending them on their way with a bag full of fish finger sandwiches and two packets of Ringtons ginger snaps to help them get through the night, I tried to come up with a solution. Echoing through the trees I could hear ‘He’s just a poor boy from a poor family’ so I quickly and carefully closed and bolted the wooden door and put my thinking cap on. I keep it in the freezer to cool it down.

With water dripping down my face from the melting cap, I suddenly had a flash of inspiration and settling myself at the table, I  wrote and sent a rather long email, and while awaiting a reply I made a cup of tea congratulating myself on my idea.  When my phone pinged I hurriedly read the correspondence, printed it out and putting on my wellingtons and night goggles I strode into the dark wood.

There to greet me was, ‘Spare him his life from this monstrosity’.The owl was in fine form and proceeded to head-bang in time to his gargantuan vocals. In between ‘Will you let him go?’ I threw – with all my might – the large envelope I’d been carrying under my cloak high into the air. It flew like a bird and landed  at his feet.

Curiosity taking over, he stopped singing momentarily, and opened the envelope with his sharp talons.

‘Tu-whit tu-whoo!’  he exclaimed with excitement and in an instant he flapped his huge silent wings and flew high above the trees and very soon he was gone.

The little animals cheered with delight, and settled down for the night. Presently, all that could be heard in the deep dark wood was the gentle whisper of sleep.

The next morning, my furry friends knocked on my door to say thank you, presenting me with a huge bottle of Tequila, which I accepted gracefully.

The owl never returned to wood. He didn’t need to. After being accepted at his audition and going on to win the final of  ‘The Voice’ he  now lives in Wales with Tom Jones, and their night time duets can be heard right across the valleys!

Would you believe it?

By Lorraine Weightman – Illustration by Fr J Bagnall