the peanut tower

Although it looks as if we are propagating a cat this is Nancy holding out in the greenhouse.

She is not keen on Billie the giant wolfhound puppy and has gone into hiding. She likes to sleep in there and eat and drink in there. Sometimes I see Pocket sitting outside at the door as if waiting to be buzzed into Nancy's new flat. I have told Nancy it's safe to come into the house but I think she's like that Japanese soldier Hiroo Onoda who hid in the jungle for twenty nine years convinced the second world war was still going on. Maybe she knows something we don't. I remember when there was that nuclear threat years ago and people ordered fall out shelters to be protected from radioactivity, that one woman asked if she could have a cat flap put into hers.

Today I was tidying up all of Billie's toys, mainly a lot of furry things in what we now call Billie's room when I pulled out what I thought was a furry rabbit ear to discover it was indeed a furry rabbit ear but attached to a furry rabbit.  One however that was no more and that the cat must have brought in. I was impressed that it was still in one piece and that she hadn't eaten it.

Below Billie and Rocket in an odd moment of quietness. I can't decide if Rocket is actually pleased to have Billie around. A lot of bitey face goes on which must be nice and she's removed his collar which must also be nice. They like to go for the neck and watching them I'm only grateful that neither of them go for mine.

When confronted with the rabbit crime Pocket denied all knowledge and at first tried to blame it on Nancy but as Nancy is holed up in the greenhouse I know this is not true. Then he said that feathery things were more his style. I told him to keep away from my bird station and that I would deduct something from his pocket money and send it to the Royal Society of the Protection of Birds. In fact I suggested a standing order but he told me in a cat's eye all things belong to cats.

Did you know he said that people who hate cats come back as mice in their next life. I thanked him and assured him I was very fond of cats. Anyway he continued cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sledge through snow.

All feathered corvid friends have flown away now which is great - all as it should be though I do miss the little jackdaw that I fed from just a few days old. Considering that some of last year's jackdaws lined up on the fence this year waiting for food I'm surprised he hasn't returned for a top up. The fledgling season is over for another year and now I make do with watching all the birds who dine at my bird station. Below is a poem I wrote celebrating its existence.