An Owl-O-Ween Tale

There once was a tiny baby owl.  He had no family, no home, and no name.  He spent his days hiding, shivering and scared, in the base of a large oak tree, which stood behind a pretty yellow house where Mrs. Mama, Mr. Daddy, and Little Darling lived. 
The little owlet waited all day to smell the yummy food Mrs. Mama cooks, hear the hearty laugh of Mr. Daddy, and watch Little Darling giggle and play with her dolls.
The baby owl spent most evenings simply watching the small family, but what he loved most was story time. Mrs. Mama spent every night reading to Little Darling about a wonderful, magical world where owls are messengers, friends, and heroes. This place is called Hogwarts. 
Night after night, the owlet curled up to Little Darling’s window and listened to stories of three-headed dogs, giant, moving chess sets, and fantastic broom games.  Sometimes, Little Darling would play music from Hogwarts--the tune was haunting, beautiful, and spoke to him unlike anything else.
Finally, this Halloween night, he realized what he must do.
“I must go to Hogwarts,” said the little owl, his angelic voice strong and decided.  “That must be where I belong.” He stomped his little foot and turned to leave, but something stopped him.  A small pain in his tummy made him turn to look at Little Darling one last time. 
“My Little Darling! Time to get ready for trick or treating!” he heard Mrs. Mama say in a singsong voice.
The owlet knew she wouldn’t be able to go trick or treating this Halloween, for Little Darling had not been well. But Mrs. Mama made sure to get her a surprise costume and let her hand out candy at the door. 
“Okay, Mama,” she said sweetly before scooping her teddy bear into her arms and singing the sweetest song the baby owl had ever heard.
It had the strangest impact on him, however: he cried.
“Why do I cry?” he wondered, wiping the tears from his worried amber eyes.  “I will miss this little family, but this is not my family.” He sniffled a bit, hopped off the window, took one last longing look at the house, and left to find Hogwarts. 
Since he was too young to fly, the owlet stayed masked within the shadows, not wishing to confront a scary fox or hungry hawk. 
“Owlet, owlet, where do you travel?” A gray squirrel had jumped out from a nearby bush.
“I’m going home to Hogwarts.”
Laughing, the squirrel choked, “There is no Hogwarts, you silly little owl!”
“There is so, and I’m going to find it,” said the owlet, marching on. 
Soon, swooshing sounds filled the air and a moving shadow flew around the owlet.
“Now, where might a tiny little owl be heading all alone on Halloween night?” said the big bat, smiling devilishly.
Frightened, the owlet muttered, “T-to Hogwarts. My home.”
“Impossible.  There is no Hogwarts.  You don’t have a home, owlet, and you never will.”
“Y-yes I do! I will! Once I find Hogwarts!”
“Poor little pitiful one,” said the bat, shaking his head, baring his fangs.  “I shall not drink your blood, young one.  You are too sad to drink.”
The owlet scurried off into the night.  He knew not where he was or where he was going, but he believed more than anything he would find Hogwarts, his home...his family.  As tears fell faster and harder, the owlet began to hum the Hogwarts melody. 
Then, from somewhere in the distance, he heard it…that familiar tune, the one he hums to keep himself company. 
“Hogwarts!” he cried, running as fast as his little feet would go. 
As the music grew louder, he could see hanging candles, a small plush house elf, and a large cutout figure of a boy with black hair, glasses, and a lightning-bolt shaped scar.
He hopped up the steps, fluttered his wings, and feverishly tapped his beak against the door until it opened.
“Why, hello there! How did you get here?”
When the owlet looked up to greet who he thought was a professor, he stumbled and nearly fell backwards down the steps: it was Mrs. Mama!
“What is it Mama?” Little Darling rounded the corner and she was dressed as a snowy white owl. “Oh, Mama, it’s a baby owl! Can we keep him? Can we, Mama? Please?” begged Little Darling.
“I don’t think owls can be pets, Little Darling,” said Mrs. Mama gently.
The owlet began hopping up and down and hurried to cuddle against Mrs. Mama’s ankle.
“Oh, please, Mama, please! Besides, he wouldn’t be a pet. He’d be family.”
At these words, the little owl turned his glistening eyes to Little Darling. 
“He does appear to need a home…and some food,” said Mrs. Mama, with a wink and a grin. 
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” said Little Darling, scooping the owlet into her arms, softly cradling him as he happily snuggled against her. “Shh, it’s okay now, my Love Bug.  You’re home.”
And that is how Love Bug the owlet found a name, a home, and, most importantly, a family, for love doesn’t exist in some imaginary world far, far away…it’s a magic that lives all around us, if only we choose to see it.  
*Just a little story I wrote on Halloween and wanted to share. I sure get nervous sharing my little stories like this one, but I thought it would be something fun. I hope you enjoyed it.