Last night, this beauty flew into my dreams, landed on my daughter's shoulder and told us he was hungry by attempting to peel our grapefruit with his beak. He then waited patiently while we sliced him a piece of the juicy, pink fruit with a gigantic bread knife. I was skeptical, sure that "owls don't like grapefruit", but he did and as he ate his feathers slowly turned snowy white and I boldly mediated a tense conversation and the child and the grandmother finally began to communicate. Just like his feathers, everything was softened.
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