Chapter 5 - Bloody Beef Heart
The next food-stuff attempted, as
recommended in my continual search for owl knowledge, was raw beef heart. The
butcher looked at me strangely. Apparently, he didn't get a lot of request for
beef hearts. He handed me a huge, heavy package, wrapped in white butcher paper
and already dripping blood.
The beef heart was bigger than the
owl! I rushed home and unwrapped the heart. It was disgusting! It was enormous,
blood red, and hard as a rock. The owl was set on the edge of the kitchen
counter where he watched the proceedings with his circular head motion.
Out came the largest, sharpest carving knife in the drawer, and an oversized
carving fork. Attempting to carve the heart was like attempting to carve a
stone! It slipped and went skittering across the counter, leaving a trail of
blood. I attacked it again. This time the skin was pierced, and crimson blood
spurted out everywhere. I was splattered with blood, the walls were splattered
with blood, and the owl was splattered with blood. Sticky red rivlets were
running off the counter top. Every time I tried to carve the heart it would
squirt some more.
The owl was having a grand time
watching this fiasco. By now Sushi was beginning to talk in owlese. He had quite
a variety of sounds, from grumbles to clicks, hisses, and even what sounded like
a little chuckle. Today, he was making his chuckling noises.
Finally, I managed to shave a little
of the hard muscle off the reluctant heart, and proudly presented it to the
chuckling bird. Sushi ate one little piece, picked at the rest, then completely
turned his back on it, refusing to eat. But, he was still chuckling. So much for
the beef heart.
About the time Sushi turned his back
on the bloody beef heart, Steve arrived home from work. He took one look at the
gory mess, and started laughing so hard, he collapsed in the recliner.
"O.K., who did you murder?" He could barely squeeze out the sentences between
his guffaws. "It's o.k., you can tell me. You can plead insanity. I'll testify
to that! We'll get you a good attorney, and I'll visit the asylum often!" Tears
of mirth were running down his face.
I threw a chunk of bloody beef heart
at him, and it made a warm, indelible splat on my peach wall when he ducked.
That only made him laugh harder.
"An awareness and understanding of
the deep, complex perceptions of owls in the past may help support efforts to
protect those species today." -
The Owl Pages - Owls in Lore and Culture
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