I have always been a traditionalist owl. Just as followers of Islam have the Hajj and die hard Soccer fans try to visit all 92 league grounds (are there still 92?), so owls have this thing about a certain coloured boat.
Imagine my surprise when twenty years ago I spotted an advert in the personal column of The Times Newspaper
Pussycat looking for travelling companion for boat trip.
Tom cat preferred, no ties, other species considered.
GSOH essential, must be prepared to row. Reply Box 343
Within an hour I had sent off a reply with a ten year old photo of myself, the only one to hand. Almost by return of post I received a reply containing the photograph of the most deliciously beautiful creature I have ever seen. (The original photo was lost at sea, I append a more recent picture taken professionally. That is me on the left, I think you will agree I was quite a handsome fellow)
A note, written on scented paper, informed me that after dismissing the applications from tired Lothario Tom cats of a certain age Pussy had chosen me as her companion.
At once I set about making preparations. That evening I purchased off EBay ‘practically brand new rowing boat in pristine condition, buyer collects’. When I went to collect the vessel I did not at first recognise the rotting hulk from the picture on the internet. Clearly I should have put my spectacles on before bidding. Nil Desperandum is the motto of Owlie Owl and so I placed the boat on the back of my trailer and drove home.
After ten solid days work I had restored the boat to seaworthy condition and was looking admiringly at my work when my next door neighbour Barney Owl poked his head over the fence.
‘It’s the wrong colour mate…’
Barney was right…. I had painted it red…. when it should have been peagreen. Well, that was easily rectified and a trip to my local branch of B&Q proved successful.
Artist's impression
Shortly after the boat was ready and having got all the other provisions I texted Pussy to tell her I was on my way.
As I arrived she looked somewhat surprised and said kindly
‘It appears preparing for the trip has aged you slightly Mr. Owl!’
Pussy on the other hand was the beautiful stately creature in the picture in my pocket.
To cut a long story short we made it to the little island that we purchased together in the ocean. It was hard journey and in the end Pussy did quite a bit of the rowing.
We became very close during the journey, particularly after being frightened by a shark. I will not go into the sordid details suffice to say that when we landed I was determined to make an honest Pussy of her.
On the island we found a shipwrecked sailor who, as chance would have it, was qualified to perform inter-species marriage ceremonies. We got half way through the ceremony when the question of the ring was raised….
I was singularly unprepared, but one of the witnesses was a rather camp and colourful pig with a ring in his nose. He suddenly piped up that I could buy the ring from him for a shilling, which he assured me was cost price. Unfortunately I only had in my possession a Newark Civil War Siege Shilling of 1645,
but although it was valued at £2500 my only thoughts were of my Pussycat and so I handed over the coin and we were duly married.
And to this day have lived happily ever after….
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