There’s a serious side to this, too, since cruise ships are optimized for humans, not owls.
“These Owls Took a Free Vacation on a Cruise Ship—but Soon They’ll Be Heading Home” Sarah Kuta, Smithsonian Magazine (December 17, 2025) “A pair of burrowing owls made themselves at home aboard Royal Caribbean International’s Allure of the Seas in February, joining a trans-Atlantic sailing to Spain. They’ll return to the United States next month
“…Nobody noticed the tiny owls until the voyage was already underway. They’d apparently taken up residence in Central Park, a large, green, open-air neighborhood aboard the ship with more than 12,000 plants. Passengers spotted the pair hanging out in the park, as well as at the vessel’s miniature golf course and in the solarium….”
Something like this happened a couple years back when another burrowing owl — just one that time — stowed away on Royal Caribbean International’s Symphony of the Seas.
After folks found this pair, crew members caught them: and then saw to it that they had food and water for the rest of the trip.
At the moment they’re staying at a wildlife rescue center in Murcia, Spain. Wildlife officials in Florida are setting up a return flight in mid-January, followed by release “into the wild—likely, to an urban environment that’s similar to the one they were accustomed to in Miami before they boarded the ship”.
Why they apparently won’t be taken back to Miami? That, I don’t know.
Reading this article was fun, so I figured you might like a heads-up; along with a sample photo and excerpt.
About animals and being serious, I’ve talked about that before:
My memory, like my father’s, is occasionally creative. I remembered a someone writing that England’s public schools were dedicated to the idea “…that Tennyson would never happen again….” Then, recently, I started re-reading a Wodehouse book.
“…It was almost as if these [English public] schools, founded in the 1830s, had it for their main objective that Shelley and Byron would never happen again….” (Introduction by Wilfred Sheed (1975) to “Leave in to Psmith”, P. G. Wodehouse (1924))
That both corrected my memory of the passage and, along with something my oldest daughter showed me, started me writing this post.
“Public” Schools, Puritans, Progressives, and Attitudes
“The foreign church (Roman) declaring war upon our national public school” Thomas Nast, Harper’s Weekly magazine. (November 8, 1873)
English public schools aren’t “public” the way American public schools are.
In England, “public” schools will take students from anywhere: provided that their parents pay them to process the kids. Over here, we’d call them “private” schools.
American “public” schools are government entities, with a convoluted history going back to colonial days.
Basically, they started with New England Puritans and got a boost in the Progressive Era, so you know they’re a wonderful idea.
“The American River Ganges”, Thomas Nast, Harper’s Weekly magazine. (May 8, 1875)
Or not, depending on how closely one looks at my country’s history: and, of course, individual viewpoints.1
I think learning to read, write, do basic arithmetic, and getting introduced to various crafts, are good ideas.
I even think that giving the children of recent immigrants, not-so-recent immigrants, and folks whose ancestors made treaties that weren’t recognized until my youth, a ‘This is America 101’ briefing is a good idea. Or could be.
But as the sort of person ardent promoters of American public schools saw as a threat, I’m not a huge fan of the system. Not as it developed.
The year I spent trying to teach in one of these processing units affected, I’ll grant, my perceptions and opinions.
My Year as a Teacher
Dunseith, North Dakota: south of the International Peace Garden and Turtle Mountains.
My first, and last, teaching job was in Dunseith, North Dakota. Then, as now, a few hundred folks call it home.2 Urban amenities like traffic jams and gangs were in short supply, but I liked the town and my neighbors.
The high school: I don’t know what was going on there.
Teachers were, I think, trying to teach their subjects. So was I: English, journalism, and something else I forget.
The folks running the place: again, I don’t know what was going on. I do know that anomalies encouraged me to start a journal, which I later turned over to folks involved with the teacher’s union.
And yes, I was in a union: my first and last experience with that American institution, which is another topic for another time.
The only oddity that stayed in my memory was being told to stand watch outside another teacher’s classroom and report undesirable behavior. I am not making that up.
At the end of the school year, the school administration didn’t renew my contract. I also learned that I was, ostensibly, responsible for the school’s woes — the last half-dozen-plus years of them.
Folks I’d gotten to know there told me that the accusation was, I’ll be polite, a lot of hooey. And standard practice for labeling new teachers who failed to win approval.
At that, I fared better than the school counselor.
The Curious Case of the Vanishing Counselor
He was, ethnically, like many of the students: someone whose ancestors had been here since long before Vikings, and then other Europeans, got interested in this continent.
Part-way through the school year he disappeared, showing up later several states over before coming back to his office.
My guess is that he knew more about what was going on than I did, took what was happening to the kids far more personally, and decided that his sanity would benefit from an unscheduled break in routine.
I hope that unofficial sabbatical helped. I liked him, and think he took what should have been his job seriously.
A Student Newspaper and ‘Problem’ Students
My time there wasn’t all bleak.
As part of teaching journalism, I had the class put together a school newspaper.
They did a pretty good job, and I think they enjoyed what they were doing. Partly, I suspect, because I told them, after sketching out how the publication could be organized, that I was around for any technical questions they had, and that it was their paper: the content was up to them.
There was some sort of dramatic presentation, too, but I don’t remember much about that.
Another high point came as my wife and I were packing, getting ready to leave. A small group of the ‘problem students’ came to apologize for being the reason I was leaving.
I assured them that we were okay, and that they weren’t the problem. I hope I phrased it well enough.
Seriously: they were ‘problem students’, and had attitude in abundance. But, when it comes to that, I have attitude. And I wasn’t facing more time in that institution.
They were — okay, and I was okay with them. I’ll leave it at that.
Making a Difference
The Wee’l Turtle in Dunseith, North Dakota.
Our oldest daughter was very young when we lived in Dunseith. We lived near the school, and near a Dunseith landmark: the Wee’l Turtle, a massive sculpture made of implement wheels, if my memory serves.
She loved that turtle.
Fast-forward about four decades. I remember the turtle, but she doesn’t. She does, however, remember my talking about the school, the kids, and my concerns.
Last week, she shared this with me:
“Hey! Just got this response to a comment I made ranting about your old teaching job:”
‘I’m Crow and my aunt is a retired teacher. I just wanted you to know that there are now many college educated Crow Indian teachers. My cousin’s daughter is a Principal at a small school on the Rez. My cousin is being encouraged to apply for the Principal position at another small town school. My ex teaches Crow Language for grades K-8 at an academy on the Rez. Maybe your Dad taught my cousin or my ex. He made a difference. Let him know.’
(From a Discord chat with my oldest daughter (December 3, 2025)
Following that person’s recommendation, she let me know.
Reading it was a real comfort.
The degree to which I made a difference, that’s something I still don’t know. Not for sure. But it’s reassuring to hear that some good has come out of a situation I was briefly part of.
America’s Founding Ideals, Ongoing Efforts
St. Mary’s in Melrose, Minnesota, a few miles down the road: torched in 2016. (WCCO (June 2016))
Finally, the usual links; this week, how I see America’s ongoing efforts to act as if our founding ideals matter — and living in a country where some citizens don’t approve of people like me:
“A Minnesota priest is accused of sexually abusing, physically assaulting and threatening to kill a woman who sought spiritual guidance from him, according to new criminal charges…
“Joseph Herzing, 61, was charged late last month in Stearns County District Court with third-degree criminal sexual conduct, stalking and three counts of threatening violence.…
“…St. Cloud police launched an investigation last year after the woman came forward with the allegations….
“…In one of the incidents, the woman confronted Herzing about a text message from a person she suspected he was having an intimate relationship with.
“Charges allege Herzingbecame ‘irate’, choked the woman, wrestled her to the ground, hit her head against the pavement, pulled her hair and threatened to kill her.
“In another 2022 incident, the woman was riding on Herzing’s motorcycle when he allegedly threatened to kill the woman and himself by driving into a tree. He then drove into oncoming traffic towards a semi-truck and swerved after the semi honked to avoid collision, charges state….
“…The statement confirms diocesan leadership ‘was made aware of potential inappropriate behavior between Father Herzing and an adult’ in 2022, but claims ‘there was no indication of physical or sexual misconduct.’
“Then-Bishop Donald Kettler met with Father Herzing and immediately placed him on administrative leave to undergo a comprehensive professional evaluation,” the St. Cloud Diocese shared. ‘Father Herzing then entered and completed a residential treatment program.’…” [emphasis mine]
First off, all I know about this is what I read in that Bring Me The News article, and the St. Cloud Diocese statement:
“…In September 2024, Bishop Neary was informed that a report was made to authorities related to the concerns raised in 2022 and that an investigation was underway. The bishop allowed Father Herzing to continue as pastor while remaining under restrictions and monitoring.
“When Bishop Neary was alerted of the criminal charges on Nov. 26, 2025. Father Herzing was immediately placed on full administrative leave….
“…Bishop Neary remains committed to transparency, accountability and the protection of all involved.
“‘We have a responsibility to protect the safety and dignity of every person. My commitment is to ensure that our response is clear and rooted in care for all those affected. We will continue to cooperate fully with authorities and accompany our communities with honesty and compassion.'”
“Bishop Neary asks the faithful to join him in prayer and encourages all victims of abuse to come forward to civil authorities or diocesan victim advocates….” [emphasis mine]
As my wife pointed out, this is very early days. The charges are, I hope obviously, serious.
I think it is possible that the current re-investigation will uncover evidence that offenses were committed. Or that they weren’t.
Attitudes and Assumptions
Thomas Nast’s cartoon, ‘DON’T BELIEVE IN THAT’, Harper’s Weekly (November 18, 1871)
Either way, I very strongly suspect that there will be the usual ‘you know what Catholics are like’ attitudes expressed.
On the other hand, maybe more folks have learned that ‘those Catholics’ aren’t dangerous outsiders, a threat to their country and their families.
About what Bishop Neary said, I realize that prayer won’t solve everything.
Neither, for that matter, will having civil authorities investigate — or, if I’m reading it right, re-investigating — these charges. No matter what laws are passed and how many times investigators investigate, some people who should know better will act badly.
And some folks ‘who should know better’ will show by their actions that they do know better.
Making Sense
Rembrandt’s “Jesus and the Adulteress”. (ca. 1640)
Me? Even though I’m aware that my prayers — and my actions — won’t magically make everyone behave, I’ll keep praying.
And I’ll keep saying that loving God, loving my neighbors, and remembering that everyone is my neighbor, makes sense. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31, 10:25–27, 29–37; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2196)
Finally, no matter how this turns out, I’ll keep being a Catholic. That’s because I take Jesus seriously, and realize that we live in a distinctly non-ideal world:
My folks had a 1957 Pontiac Chieftain four-door sedan, not unlike this one.
The house next door north from 818 went through several owners, residents at any rate, while my folks and I were living there.
I don’t remember anything about the folks or person who owned Freckles, but I remember the mid-sized dog.
Freckles may have been a particular sort of dog, but that’s another thing I don’t know about her. Think of a Cocker or English Springer Spaniel, and you’ve got a good idea of her appearance.1
Our next-door-north neighbors had a fenced-in back yard at that time. Our driveway ran alongside for a dozen feet or so before reaching the garage.
That meant we’d often stop the car there before opening the garage door. By hand. Garage door openers were a new thing for me, later on, and that’s another topic.
Anyway, we’d stop the car.
Then, ky-yi-ing around the back of our neighbor’s house, came Freckles: ears flapping, legs a blur, and barking dire alarms as she curved toward us.
Then, a yard or so from the fence, she’d recognize us. And keep running. Only now she was wagging her tail — and hindquarters — barking cheerful greetings. Which we, of course, acknowledged, and spent a minute or two extended our greetings to this volubly-cheerful neighbor.
For some reason, at first I had pegged Freckles as being a “he”. Dogs, like humans, aren’t all that dimorphic, and I’m drifting off-topic.
But early on my folks and I noticed that Freckles was a “she”. From that point on “Freckles is a girl” became a catchphrase when meeting her.
Neighbors and Attitudes
I’m not sure how we established that we belonged there and were not a threat to her or her territory. Maybe it was a simple matter of not acting like a threat.
Maybe it’s like my oldest daughter said, when we were chatting last Tuesday evening:
“I can see the ears flapping like she’s about to take off. If she was part spaniel, wouldn’t be hard to make friends.”
Then again, maybe my father introduced himself and established our status as friendly neighbors. He was very good at that sort of thing. Odd, in a way, since his temper was as volcanic as mine. But he’s also half-Irish, and that’s yet another topic. Topics:
Today is the first day of Advent. Among many other things, this season is a good time for remembering that hope is always an option: no matter what’s going wrong at the moment.
Celebrating the Moment When God Became One of Us
City lights by the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Photo from the ISS. (2017)
My culture doesn’t have a seasonal phrase like “Jolly Advent!”, which may explain why I could buy Advent calendars, but not Advent cards.
Hallmark (merely links, I don’t get a cent if you click them 😉 )
For me, and quite a few other folks, today is the start of Advent. It’s a pretty big deal, which is one reason this household has an Advent calendar. It’s the same one we’ve used for I don’t know how many years.
As for why Advent matters, it’s when we get ready for celebrating that moment in time when God became one of us. As I said, it’s a pretty big deal.
Pope St. John Paul II talked about that, and some current events, in 1998. Here’s a link to that, and some other resources:
Angelus Pope St. John Paul II (Sunday, November 29, 1998)
USCCB (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops
“What is Advent?” (Sunday, November 30, 2025 – Wednesday, December 24, 2025)
Advent, Christmas, and Jesus: a Very Quick Review
“The Shepherds and the Angel”, Carl Bloch. (1879)
Because this is Advent, I’ll be getting ready to celebrate the birth of Jesus: the man who is God, whose birth was announced by otherworldly beings, who died and then stopped being dead, and who offers forgiveness and life to anyone who accepts him.
Again: it’s a pretty big deal.
I’ve talked about that, why we need a Savior, and what’s happened over the last two millennia, before:
Something new each Saturday.
Life, the universe and my circumstances permitting. I'm focusing on 'family stories' at the moment. ("A Change of Pace: Family Stories" (11/23/2024))
Blog - David Torkington
Spiritual theologian, author and speaker, specializing in prayer, Christian spirituality and mystical theology [the kind that makes sense-BHG]
I was born in 1951. I'm a husband, father and grandfather. One of the kids graduated from college in December, 2008, and is helping her husband run businesses and raise my granddaughter; another is a cartoonist and artist; #3 daughter is a writer; my son is developing a digital game with #3 and #1 daughters. I'm also a writer and artist.
