Birdy’s Grudge

Read by Jana

Written and Illustrated by Bertie

Hello, you’re listening to Jana and I’m back with one of our popular Birdy stories. It’s a hoot of a story and I hope you’ll enjoy it.

One dark evening, back in February, Jake heard hooting sounds from the back garden. 

Hoo-hoo-hoooo.

 He pulled on his wellies and coat, took a torch from the cupboard and hurried out into the rain to investigate.  

Jake followed the hoots towards an old apple tree. There the beam of his torch found two enormous yellow eyes, looking straight at him. He ran back to the house:

“Mum! Dad! Come and see! I think I found an owl in the garden!”

Jake couldn’t wait to tell his best friend Birdy about his discovery. But Birdy didn’t appear that night. He must have been busy elsewhere.

The next morning, Mum yawned as she made breakfast.

“I wish that owl would keep quiet,” she complained. “He was twit-twooing half the night. I haven’t slept a wink.”

  After supper, Dad found an owl video on YouTube. The family watched it together. They learned that the female tawny owl makes a cry like Keewik and the male answers her with a Hoo-hoo-hoooo.

“I heard both those sounds,” said Mum. “I think we have a pair of owls. I expect there will be a whole family in the spring.”

 Now Jake was even more excited. He was sure that Birdy would be too. After all Birdy was a bird, so he would be interested in the latest bird gossip, wouldn’t he?

That night Birdy paid a visit:

“Tap! Tap! Tap!”

The ancient crow was at Jake’s window.  

“Come in Birdy, I’ve got big news, we have owls!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Birdy. 

“Sorry? It’s good news, isn’t it?”

Birdy shook his black head. 

“Owls are the worst type of news.  They’re never up to any good in my experience.”

“Oh?’ said Jake, astonished. “In school they teach us that owls are wise.”

“Caw!” said Birdy, shaking his head.  And Jake realised that he might have offended his feathered friend. “Not as wise as crows of course, Birdy. I just mean they’re not stupid.”

“Owls,” said Birdy, “are cunning. But cunning is not the same thing as wise. Unfortunately some people can’t tell the difference. I knew an owl once who even managed to trick the goddess Athena.”

Jake could tell that one of Birdy’s stories was coming on, so he sat back against his pillow. 

“It happened long, long ago,” said Birdy. “And I don’t mean long ago like when your dad was a little kid. I mean properly long ago – like back in ancient times, when even I was handsome and full of youth. 

Back then, the goddess Athena thought very highly of me. I was her favourite bird, and I lived in her temple on the Acropolis, the great hill above Athens. As a mark of her favour, she made little silver coins with my handsome face stamped on them.

Now, the king of Athens was called Cecrops. He was one of Athena’s favourite humans. After all, he had named Athens after her. Cecrops had three daughters, and Athena gave them a special box to guard.

“‘Whatever you do, don’t open it,’ she told them.

Naturally, that made them desperate to know what was inside. They lifted the lid and took a peek. I saw the whole thing from a nearby tree so I flew straight to Athena and told her.

You might think she would have thanked me. But no. She flew into a terrible rage and told me off good and proper.

“‘Don’t be such a spy and a tell-tale-tit,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to hear nasty stories about my favourite human beings. Keep your beak out of other people’s business.’

“‘Sorry, my lady,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realise you were so touchy today.’

“‘And don’t talk back to a goddess!’ she cried. ‘Leave my Acropolis, and don’t show your gossipy face around here ever again.’

So she kicked me out.  Just because I told her the truth! I thought it was all very strange. Then I discovered that an owl had been paying her visits, bringing her presents and flattery.

“‘Twit-to-whoo! You’re by far the wisest and most beautiful goddess in the world,’ he used to say.

He knew that flattery will get you everywhere with a Greek goddess. Soon after, she appointed the owl “her most favoured bird” and put his puffy face on all her silver coins. All the crow coins disappeared. Ever since then, everyone has believed that owls are wise.

We crows are far smarter, but do we get any appreciation? Not a bit of it. I’d chase those owls away, if I were you. Mark my words, they’re cunning birds, and you never know what trick they’re up to.”

Jake could see there was no use  arguing with Birdy. He obviously held an ancient grudge against owls. 

The rain does not continue forever, not even in England. Spring brought daffodils and little owlets in the apple tree. Jake couldn’t see the baby owls, but once or twice, at dusk, he saw a parent owl bringing their babies supper in its claws. 

 By May, the baby owls were becoming increasingly noisy. They called for food until four in the morning. Now Mum hated owls almost as much as Birdy did.

One morning, she went out into the garden to water her plants.

“Oh yuk, that’s disgusting!” Mum shrieked as she saw owl droppings and bird pellets scattered over her lawn. The pellets the owls coughed up contained things like mouse bones and rats skulls. That evening, when Jake told Birdy the story, he said. 

“See, I told you owls were bad news. Their habits are disgusting.”

“Mum agrees with you,” said Jake. “But Dad still likes them. He thinks they bring good luck.”

“Silly man!” cawed Birdy.

In early summer, Dad found an owlet hopping along the garden wall sounding distressed. Dad thought it must have fallen out of the apple tree, so he put on his thick gardening gloves and tried to pick it up.

As he bent over, a rush of air brushed the back of his neck. Something tugged at his head. Suddenly, his head felt strangely cool. He looked up and saw an owl flying off with his gardening hat. 

“Hey! I was only trying to rescue your young one!” shouted Dad.

The second parent joined the attack.

Jake, seeing this, immediately, grabbed his tennis racket, rushed outside and shouted:

“Get off my dad!”

As he went to help his dad, a loud cawing came from the roof of the house.

Three black crows, led by Birdy, shot down in an arrowhead formation.

Within seconds, the garden was full of beating wings and shaking leaves. It was beak to beak and claw to claw. Black and brown feathers fluttered down onto the lawn.

The Battle of the Birds was noisy and fierce, but it lasted barely more than a minute. The crows withdrew to the rooftop, while the owls returned to guard the apple tree.

Meanwhile, the helpless owlet dug its claws into the bark, flapped his wings,  and clambered back onto a branch.

When Jake returned to his room, Birdy landed briefly on his sill. His feathers were still ruffled and a tail feather was sticking out at a strange angle.  He squawked.

“That showed them! If those owls try any more of that nonsense, we’ll be back again!”

He didn’t wait for Jake’s response and flew off. 

That very same evening, there was another big fight. The crows attacked the owls as they came out to hunt for mice. The same thing happened night after night. 

“Birdy,” said Jake when he landed on his window sill, “Isn’t it time to call off this war? Mum says all the bird noise is giving her nightmares. And Dad says it’s wrong to hold grudges for so long.”

“I will accept nothing less than unconditional surrender!” declared Birdy. 

At dusk the next day, Jake went to talk to the owls. He stood at the foot of the apple tree and called out:

Hoo-hoooo.

And an owl replied, 

Hoo-hoo-hoooo.

“What can we do to stop all this noise and all this fighting?’ asked Jake. “Twit-to-woo! We just want to live in peace and bring up our family,” replied the owl.”

“Could you agree to keep the noise down and not steal my Dad’s hat again?” asked Jake. 

“The hat was a misunderstanding.  We were protecting our young,” replied the owl. And we can try not to hoot so loud, but we can’t promise.”

“That’s ok then,” said Jake. “But what can I tell Birdy? He’s got an ancient grudge against you.”

“We know,” replied the owl. “You can give him this.” 

The owl flew out and dropped something at Jake’s feet. Whatever it was, glinted in the moonlight. Jake picked it up and felt it between his fingers.  It was a coin, old and worn. When he shone his torch, he saw that a bird was engraved there. Not an owl, but a crow.

“Thank you, I think he’ll like this,” he said. 

He ran back into the house and hoped that Birdy would turn up that evening. He hadn’t been visiting so much since the start of the war. Fortunately, Birdy did come tapping at the window. Tap Tap Tap

Jake showed him the coin. “That is an ancient Greek obol with the face of a crow on it. Very, very rare. Where did you get that?” asked Birdy.

“The owl gave it to me,” he replied. “He asked me to give it to you as a peace offering.”

“Peace! What’s that? I don’t know the meaning of peace!” exclaimed Birdy. 

“Oh go on Birdy. You’re really old, but you’re not very grown-up sometimes. You can’t hold a grudge forever.   Why don’t you take the coin and call off the war. Whatever happened long ago, the owls just want to live in peace and bring up their family.”

Birdy hopped from one leg to the other.

“I thought you were my friend,” he squawked. 

“I am your friend, Birdy. That’s why I’m telling you the truth, even though you don’t like it. Isn’t that what you did for Athena?”

Birdy let out a squark. Cowwwww!

“Go on, take the coin!” said Jake, holding it out. 

  “Naa!” said Birdy.  “You keep it safe.  But I’ll tell you what.  If the owls stop hooting at all hours, I’ll call off my birds and we’ll let bygones be bygones,” and he flew off into the night. 

And peace returned to the garden – sort of.  An occasional Hoo-hoo-hoo let the family know that the owls were still there, and of course, the crows who perched on the roof liked to make their presence known. CAW CAW! every now and then.

And that was Birdy’s Grudge, read by me Jana for Storynory. Inspired by a true event when an owl was keeping me awake at night. Twit twoo!