Suzanne Cochran vouches for her husband Pete’s veracity. Besides, their son, Dillon, was along at the time. Good thing. It was an improbable story.
To say it sounded fantastic understates the eerie occurrence.
It was Halloween night, after all, and it was alien to anything I would ever do.
Yes, Halloween.
Pete and Dillon had just crossed the bridge spanning the Intracoastal Waterway, from Swansboro to Emerald Isle. Deer often dart across the highway. So Pete was alert. Good thing, again.
For there it was. Dead ahead. Not a deer. Something else, Perched on he road. Its eyes were big … wide and staring. It would have sent a chill up my spine. But not Pete’s.
It was an owl, as it turned out, a wild owl – in case there’s any other kind. Wild owls are nocturnal birds of prey, nighttime predators.
Pete stopped. Put on the truck’s flashers. And walked up to it!
He said it appeared stunned. But who knew for how long. And scariest of all, to me, it could have been sitting atop its dinner. I could imagine the reaction of a wild owl if approached while it was feasting on fresh-killed prey?
These guys aren’t pet canaries that politely sit on our fingers.
But unbelievably it did, when Pete reached out. It clasped its strong talons to his hand, and wouldn’t let go.
It gets better.
Pete decided to take it home, inside his truck.
With the owl still gripping one hand, Pete began driving down Coast Guard Road on Emerald Isle -- as the owl’s wide eyes, just inches away, stared directly into his.
Half way home, the owl began to stir. It started “cracking its beak,” that short hooked bill. Then, as bad luck would have it, the truck hit a bump. The jolt spooked the owl. It jumped onto the dashboard and flung open its wings, which covered most of the windshield.
That’s the way Pete drove home. A wild owl perched on his dashboard, staring at him, cracking its beak, and spreading its wings. And Pete not knowing what would happen next.
I’ve had a bee in the car. But a wild owl?
Pete appeared calm when he told the story. And he was likely calm at the time. If he had been flailing about, while the owl was flailing about, who knows what would have happened.
Once they were home, the owl jumped out, flew into a tree and stayed there.
And it was still there the last time I talked to Pete. Occasionally, he said, it soars down even closer, and perches on a fence next to his house. To get closer to Pete?
I’ve heard of the Dog Whisperer, even watched him on television. What about an Owl Whisperer?
Stay tuned.
