They kept an owl on a tether at the temple of Athena at Corinth. I used to go visit him every day after rounding up a dead rat or two. It was a mutually beneficial relationship: people who would never think of giving alms to a beggar would gladly hand over whatever their cats had caught, and the priestess at the temple always gave me something for the rats. “Your breakfast, sire!” I’d murmur with a bow. The owl would open a single eye, dim as a lantern in the blazing afternoon.