The Owls

This is seriously addicting. Melly told me that Mr.O. had been gone all day. Concerned, I tuned in. Poor Mum is crouched on her egg chanting to herself glumly. I wandered off to read some more complaints about Blogger. Then I tuned back in to the nest just in time to see the Dirty Ole Bastard barge empty-handed through the front door and pounce on Mum's back for some 20 second owl sex. (At least I hope it's DOB and not friendly Uncle Freddy from three trees down). And now he is leaning up against the wall, scratching his belly and snoring. This beats Desperate Housewives hands down.