The Canadian Senate released a children’s book, named The Wise Owls, about how great and important the senate is. Below is an imagined sequel to it.
Young Percy Bird had never visited the nest of one of the wise owls. The nests were on the highest branches, up far away from the rest of the animals of the forest. Percy could, of course, see the nests from a great distance, for they were the shiniest nests around, collecting all of the most attractive branches from the surrounding trees.
He was summoned because winter was coming. The biggest of the owls, Senator Mike Fluffy, was preparing for his annual migration to the sunny climate far south, far from the forest of Canada, in the forest of Florida.
“Why do you need me, Mr. Fluffy?” asked Percy.
“I am far too wise to use my wings, it might interrupt my deep and intelligent thoughts, so I need some birds to carry me to my winter nest, so I can continue to be wise in comfort. You are merely the first to arrive.”
The senator showed Percy the red wool basket that he commissioned other animals to make for him. He had a special pocket for crackers, so they would not get broken, and another pocket for cheese, so he would not be subjected to ice cold camembert. One of his fellow owls had complained bitterly about being subjected to both of those things, and he would not risk it.
“I didn’t know you had birds carry you south each winter,” Percy commented, as he gazed at the opulence of the nest that surrounded him. He had never seen such a luxurious nest.
“We need new birds to help us in our journey all the time, you are young and strong and able to bear us. Also, it’s becoming more difficult to find birds willing to make the journey” said senator Fluffy.
“Why is that?”
“After Senator Lynn Beak’s comment about robins they won’t bear us south anymore for some reason. I haven’t the foggiest idea why.”
Percy looked in the corner and saw a piece of blue thread, which he recognized as one he wanted to use for his own nest, before it was snatched away.
“I used to have a blue thread like that,” mused Percy. “Why do you have one?”
“It helps me think and be wise. You shouldn’t worry about it, just leave all the wisdom to me.”
The other birds began to arrive. Some, noticed the fancy nest for the first time, and let out a whistle. Some had carried the owls to their winter nests before, and let out a low sigh.
It was a difficult journey, full of hardship, foul weather and difficult skies, but the birds pulled the owls to their winter destination. They noticed they did not hear a single word of wisdom, but many complaints about the standards of the cheese and one or two lewd comments directed towards the younger birds by the owl Don Burrowdith.
After the owls had been delivered to their winter nests, Percy and the other birds, especially the robins, held a conference. They were tired from the journey, they were annoyed by the opulent nests, and they were perturbed by how little wisdom the owls had imparted over the long journey. Older birds, who remembered when the owls were wise, argued they might be wise again, but they were tired, and their backs were sore from bearing them south each year. The younger birds couldn’t figure out why they were putting up with the owls in the first place. Finally, after a long debate, they decided that they would not return to fetch the owls from their winter’s nest, and just leave them there forever.
The owls, unable to lift their large, cheese-filled bodies with their wings which had grown slow with disuse, were unable to leave their winter nests, and stared at the sky waiting for the birds of the forest to collect them.
The birds of the forest, freed from having responsibility over the owls, and relieved to no longer hear the owls’ supposed wisdom – which they had to admit, had become less than wise – lived happily ever after.
