billie the kid

One of the first known pictures of a tiny wolfhound puppy who joined our life under the name of Billie. Billie with an I E - meaning she is a girl like Billie Holliday and numerous other girls with Billie as a name.

She came from Scotland from the lovely Fran and Bill who originally gave us our much loved Pixie. We manifested her and lo there she was. When I told some people we were getting a baby wolfhound they rolled their eyes. You said you weren't going to get a puppy they said.  Others understood like the vet who said she can't live without one. Some people just grinned and sighed. There were no wolfhounds to rescue I assured the doubters and she was meant.

 She has settled in well and made friends though Rocket was not too pleased with her arrival. He tolerates her now but at the moment is acting a little like Noel Coward lounging on the sofa as if in a silk dressing gown , waving a cigarette holder and telling her he can't possibly play as he's composing something.  

Pocket on the other hand says he can't see the point in her and why is she taking up so much room on the sofa where he likes to be. He may have to pack some bags as no one was listening to him. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd he moaned.

Nothing in life becomes me like the leaving it he announces. What's Macbeth got to do with it I say - anyway on the whole you seem to have a pretty good life. He strides out across the lawn To live at all is miracle enough he mutters. I suggest he's been reading Mervyn Peake but he denies all knowledge of that and he has made me well aware that cats do not need to examine their lives because they do not doubt that life is worth living.  Perhaps we should all be more cat and want nothing beyond the life we lead. Also cats don't collect stuff like we do. 

I shall go and look for the piper at the gates of dawn he announces. I resist referring to the wind in the willows as he seems to have a short memory as to where he gets his quotes from.

Rocket did come off the couch to accompany us to a cafe in a nearby town to show Billie how to behave in company.

Pocket returned from the gates of dawn and fell asleep whilst trying to compose his thoughts on existential angst.

a hedge-pig about to go out into the world
 

Above a new kid on the block too - this tiny jackdaw who demands to be fed every hour or so who has now grown a few feathers and has palled up with the juvenile crow who also demands to be fed every hour. The crow is definitely taking the mickey and could feed himself if he cared to. Instead he's developed a loud squawking that reminds the neighbouring baby rooks in the rookery that they haven't been fed for at least a month either.

Billie has decided that the remains of a rubber cabbage is more fun to play with than Rocket.

 Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd

William Shakespeare

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Thrice and once the hedge-pig whin'd

Harper cries: Tis time, tis time.

Round the cauldron go:

In the poison'd entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights hast thirty-one

Swelter'd venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

Double, double, toil and trouble;

fire burn and cauldron bubble.