Emmy clambered up into the Owlery tower, and stood for a moment, breathing in the musty, heady scent of the owls. Gazing around the perches, she searched for her barn owl, Dapple.

"Come on, girl, where are you? Dapple!" she called softly over the constant rustle of feathers, and impatient flap of thousands of wings as the birds shuffled to get into better position.