This little guy's name is Winston. He's a guardian of good books, and he takes his job very seriously.
I picked him up at a rummage sale in northern Pennsylvania for a pittance. He's carved out of some sort of white stone and is about three inches tall. Someday soon, he'll find a home in a bookcase. That is, after all, where all carved owls belong. For now, he'll have to be content with being perched atop Dickens.
I don't think he minds.
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