I met some very nice stuffies. Like Mr. Monte and Mr. Roger.
While I was having my picture taken with them, an owl named Onwyn came up behind me.
And ate my head.
Apparently it's how they say "hello" wherever he's from. He didn't mean any harm. But it was still kind of disgusting. His breath smelled like birthday cake and mice. Yuck.
I guess I yelled or something, because after a little bit, Mr. Cuthbert, who is the head of security came over to talk to me.
He asked if I could describe my "assailant." And since Onwyn was sitting right there, I just pointed.
Mr. Cuthbert sprang right into action.
He said that now I was safe, and he was happy to serve and protect. And then he left. It took me a good 15 minutes to get that party hat off of poor Onwyn's beak.So I have photographic evidence that an owl DID, in fact, eat my head. You thought I was just telling a made up story, didn't you? It's okay. It does sound pretty crazy when you think about it.
Next time you're around an owl, just keep in mind that some owls think that eating your head is a way to say "hi." I wish I had known that. Thank you for reading about my owl adventure.
- Lenore