Owl displays her battle scars with a proud stoicism. Always at the ready; trusty, reliable guardian of the keys. She was nestled in the back pouch of my cycling jacket as I cycled home. From high above, a seagull swooped down, its beady eyes fixed on half an egg sandwich, the remains of the day’s lunch, resting next to Owl in my back pouch. She is a defender at heart, nay, a paladin, who exists to ensure that I will never be locked out. The seagull keeps coming, its large beak attempting to snatch a corner of the sandwich. Brave Owl pecks at the intruder and the seagull falls back. But the seagull makes a last gasp effort for its quarry. Owl’s small beak is no match for the brutish bill of the gull, however, and its parting shot is a final, vicious jab to Owl’s eye. This battle is played out at my rear and yet I am oblivious until I arrive at my front door and reach in for Owl. Owl is humble in her victory and we share the egg sandwich for tea.
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