Missing: One Oscar the Owl. Last seen on the Bakerloo Line at Bond Street.

So, I told you about our epic proper British tea. But did I share the heartbreak that had happened just an hour before we waltzed into Grosvenor House?

There we sat on the London Tube – Bakerloo line – mentally preparing for bountiful treats that were awaiting us on that jet lagged afternoon — and we were nearly there. We just needed to change to the Central Line to get to Marble Arch … and the moment we got out of the carriage, my daughter turned and realized that she had left her stuffy, Oscar the Owl, behind.

There had been another family, sitting across from us, and the mother picked up Oscar and then held him up to the window, as I tried to reopen the doors (don’t try that, by the way, it totally won’t work and you could lose a limb in the process). The train continued to the next station, as my daughter descended into tears.

My husband did what would make sense. He took the next train to the next station, in an effort to maybe catch up with that mystery mom holding the owl. Because if that happened to you, what would you do? Me and the kids just waited behind.

A Tube station worker overheard my daughter sobbing and asked if we were okay. I explained about the missing owl and he told me about lost property, which funnily enough, I had blogged about years ago and had forgotten about. He told me it was at Bakerloo Station and to try their website. I thanked him and he carried on.

Moments later, he returned with a copy of the day’s Metro newspaper and rifled through to find an ad about TFL.gov.uk and told me there was a form you could complete — basically a missing thing’s report — and they could connect you with your lost item.

I thanked him again for the information. Again, another example from our trip of a really awesome Brit going above and beyond to help a stranger. My husband returned minutes later with nothing. No owl.

I filled out the form online and half hoped that we would hear back within a week, while we were still in the country, but didn’t.

Yesterday, I received an email from Lost Property, which said:

Dear Mrs. Marsom,

I’m sorry we didn’t have better news for you on this occasion.

Sad news. But again, kudos to them for continuing the search and for bothering to email me back, a real human, not an automated email. Thank you, Lost Property.

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