Dawn was breaking through, fast overtaking the retreating night. Somewhere far off a bird had decided to announce to the world that it had survived the night and was fully awake and ready for the day. There was a sound of shuffling in the barn, something else was on the move and determined to join in with the growing chorus of the morning awakening.

Olly, the celebrated vegetarian owl, opened an eye, had a look around and was not entirely impressed with what was to be seen right then and so made the decision to delay her own morning ritual for a while. Had a brisk rearranging of her feathers and went back to her sleeping mode. That was until all chances of doing so were destroyed by the panic sounds of the resident mouse squeaking as loud as he could that “There’s a monster in the cabbage patch. We’ll all be murdered in our bedding!” 

Darcy was always one for the melodrama, thought Olly. But there was something in his squeak that suggested to her that maybe it was worth looking into. She flew down from her perch in the rafters to land beside Darcy the panic stricken mouse. 

“Okay, Darcy, you’re safe. Now tell me, what’s this about a monster in the cabbage patch?”

The little mouse was still shivering in fear but managed to tell the big confidence boosting owl all about his discovery. 

“Come and show me.” Said Olly.

“No way, I’m not going anywhere near that patch again.”

“Oh well,” sighed the owl, “I’d better go see for myself.”

Out of the barn she flew, to the little plot of cultivated ground a little way beyond the barn and to the rear, known by all as The Cabbage Patch. It didn’t yield the most profitable standard cabbage but quite the best Red Cabbage for miles around, the farmer’s speciality, for which he was quite famous in market circles. This had kept him fairly comfortable for a long time.

Olly flew over the patch a couple of times to see if she could see anything remotely resembling a monster but saw nothing, then, on her third pass she spotted something, an oddity, a cabbage that didn’t look quite right. In fact it was too big for a cabbage, far too big for a cabbage. She flew right down to the ground, though a little way away from the malformed vegetable and for a little while sat there watching it. She noticed something very uncharacteristic for a cabbage, or any cabbage she’d ever seen. This one appeared to be breathing. Its main bulk was definitely rising and falling rhythmically as one does when breathing. This was clearly no cabbage, she concluded. She sat just watching for a long time, taking in curious details like its surface, it was covered in what seemed to be fish scales, a rusty red colour, merging quite well with the red cabbages. It was also very tightly curled up which meant that when it was uncurled it would present a massive problem for the farmer who fortunately was away at this time. Obviously it could not be left where it was. Something must be done to assist its removal. It was while Olly was thinking about what to do that there was a slight movement form the non-cabbage beast. It was stirring. From somewhere about the middle of the curled up bundle a head raised itself, a large red eye slowly opened, then shut then opened again, this time staying open taking in the scene around it.

Never one for missing an opportunity Olly hopped over to it.

“Good morning, stranger. I trust you slept well?”

The eye was joined by another eye and both blinked. Looked first to the left and then to the right before swivelling back to focus on the owl in front of it.

“Where am I?”

“Where are you? Why, you’re in farmer Throwback’s cabbage patch, that’s where.” It was then Olly noticed the injuries, this animal had been in one heck of a fight by the looks of things and needed attention and as soon as possible.

“You’re injured, my friend.” Said the owl.

“I’ve had a bit of a do, it’s true.”

“A bit of a do!? Woohoo! You’ve had a real doozy if you ask me. Never mind. We’ll get you fixed up good. There’s someone in the town who can help, I’m sure. Stay where you are, I’ll be back shortly. Now don’t move, okay?”

“I don’t think I could get very far anyway,” said the invalid.

The town of Connis Loop was only a few kilometres away where there lived an old recluse, albeit a very special recluse. Some thought he had been a monk or an Abbot at one time always wearing a monk's hooded habit. Amongst other things he was known for his abilities in the business of healing. Referred to by everybody as The Old Man