reviews

 

This is Goose. Goose is a young jackdaw who has damaged his flight feathers and until he moults and grows a new set (a long time I fear) he cannot fly and is in my custody. He is very friendly and is fond of cheese. All this will be in my favour should he have to leave a review of his stay with me when he goes.

 

How I hate reviews! It seems that these days we are asked to review everything - how was the dentist? How was the nurse? How was the haircut? How was  your food shop? I read that a host on Air BnB who had received a bad review from her guest was so infuriated she sent  the footage taken on her door cam of her guest with another woman - and sent it to his wife in retaliation. In writing this I am remembering a one woman show I did as part of the Hong Kong Festival. The South China Morning Post gave me two reviews by two different reviewers. One was probably the worst review ever and the other good - but which one did I listen to? The bad review of course.

Rocket tells me he's been reviewed from  one or two of the places he has gone to stay if I'm away. Very bad reviews - he ate the hen- he barked at their grand children - he howled when they went to the pub, he did unspeakable things to the curtain. None of them would have him back. But funnily he received rave reviews from Whippet Lodge who don't have grand children visiting, don't have a hen or go to the pub and he's never done anything unspeakable to their curtains. I warned him he'd be reviewed if he did stand up. He said he didn't care and did I want to hear his latest joke?

A dog goes into a library. A POUND OF SAUSAGES PLEASE he says. This is a LIBRARY the woman frowning behind the desk says.  Sorry -he whispers- a pound of sausages please.

The Ghost Pocket appears at the window sill. I tell him Nancy may not be long for this world and would she be re-united with him and come back as Ghost Nancy? Certainly not! He scowls. Even you wouldn't be here with the rest of us special people. You may have written a book or two but you are nothing compared to my pals Shakespeare, Dickens and Tolstoy.

 So do you get reviewed then before you get up there? 

Ghost Pocket chose to ignore me - more than likely you'll go into a holding bay with your memories and possibly some of your old pets - so that will be nice for you won't it...

I told Nancy not to worry but she said she didn't want to be with Pocket anyway.

So I might see Harry again? I suggested. I found a photo of him recently when we had his cart and used to go off on picnics with him. Although Harry is long gone I still have the cart in the garage - kept as a memory I suppose though I've always had an inkling that if I were to lose my driving licence I'd just get another horse and go to Waitrose in the cart.

Ghost Pocket scowled. 

I keep telling you you have too much stuff. Don't own so much clutter that you'd be relieved if your house catches fire. 

Wendell Berry said that I told him. Oh of course he's just joined you hasn't he? 

Yes Wendy and I are new buddies. He glared at me. 

See now why you aren't in the same category? 

I nod. History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man 

I say to Pocket. 

Yes Percy Shelley said that he replied - we call him Bysshe up here. Another fine example eh? And whilst we're on the subject of memories 

the life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. 

Cicero? I said.

Ghost Pocket smirked.

  Yes - see what I mean?

I asked Rocket what his earliest memory was and he told me it was when Pocket blinded him in one eye when he was thirteen weeks old. He was lucky though because they didn't have to take his eye out and in my opinion he can still spot a deer on the horizon. He's not called Neurocket for nothing. Oddly Pocket adored Rocket and loved cuddling up to him much to Rocket's consternation. 

I told him mine was when I was a little older than thirteen weeks but just toddling and my mother and I were chased by a bull in the field of a farmer my dad was visiting as a doctor. I can still see it so vividly - my mother in a summer dress racing towards the gate with me flying in the air at the end of her arm like a kite.

I have several large hedgehogs that have moved into the front garden now and we've established a feeding station. When we first moved up here before dogs but had cats we came home one evening and found a hedgehog eating the cat food in the porch. The next night he brought a friend and I kid you not by the third night there were three of them.

Memory Lane

The lane of memories leads to

the top drawer of the old wooden desk

- itself a memory sold to me

by a lad with red hair who said

he belonged to the IRA

and wanted more than

a cup of tea on delivery.

Inside - the darling, dearest, dear,

by the way letters

the post card from Paris

the photo of us singing on the heath

a bygone get out of jail free card

from an American monopoly game

an envelope of stars

and air mail paper you can probably

no longer buy.

Linda Coggin 2026

                                    RIP Nancy -  ? - 2026  (poss 18yrs)

Life is a big wave of joy and sorrow. Neither Pocket nor I can attribute this quote to anyone.