So the kittens have arrived.
I had wanted a black cat or kitten as I've always had a black cat in my life but the little black brother in the litter had already been sold. My children pointed out I should stop repeating things in my life, always choosing a wolfhound or a lurcher or a black cat and I should just try something different. They are quite right. And without a black cat though still with a jackdaw on my shoulder I imagine the village will stop considering me to be the local witch.
Rocket's nose has been very much put out of joint. The kittens don't mind him at all but he is not keen on them. He thinks they're going to do a comedy act behind his back and barks at them in defense. He is going to call himself The Rocky Horror Show. I tell him I thought that name had already been taken and that they're too young to know any jokes so not to worry and did he want to tell me his latest joke. He rolls his eyes and announces he might have to tell cat jokes instead.
A dog walks into a pub, takes a seat and says to the barman "Can I have a pint of lager and a packet of crisps please." The barman says "Wow! That's amazing you should join the circus." "Why" the dog replies "Do they need electricians?"
True to Pocket's word Nancy did not join him up there but she is still in communication by constantly sending me memories from the Holding Bay and Memory Bank in the sky. She seems to be setting up an e mail account called A Cat -alogue of Past Animals.
Seeing that we had replaced her with a pair of kittens she reminded me of Capability the tabby cat. I can't remember how she came into our lives or even why we called her that - perhaps because she was Brown but I am now reminded how she left it. I had had my car towed away to the underground car park in Hyde Park. But when I tried to drive it away it broke down and seemed beyond repair. The policeman in charge offered to drop the contents of my car round to my flat when he came off duty. As I came to the door when he arrived so did Capability who dashed out and was knocked over by a passing car and killed before our eyes. The policeman ended up burying her in our back garden and then told me as he'd sold my can of petrol to some people on the way he suggested taking me out for a drink sometime. I don't think I went.
If Ghost Pocket had any eyebrows I think he would have raised them. Stupidity has a knack of getting its own way he said, checking his whiskers. Albert Camus said that I told him. Yes he's one of my many associates up here along with Winnie Churchill. Churchill! I exclaim. Has he told you that diplomacy is the art of telling people to go to hell in such away they ask for directions? Ghost Pocket scowled. We're not that friendly he said.
Here is Geoffrey keeping an eye on this hedgehog who is blind and sometimes comes out in the day for a stroll.
This is Goose back in the shade tunnel. I went away for a night and when I returned the shade tunnel was empty though the door was shut. I noticed a rat had chewed a hole in the netting at ground level and Goose had obviously squeezed out. As he can't fly yet I was worried - after all the buzzards are always flying over head and as previously reported had landed on my other jackdaw and was about to kill him. And he could fly. At the moment Goose would not survive out there till he grows his wing feathers.
I heard a rustling in the bramble hedge by the door and saw Goose inside but I couldn't reach him so knowing how much he loves cheese I fetched some and poked a piece into the hedge. I then left the door open and laid a trail of cheese towards it. When I returned he was sitting on his branch inside looking relieved (if a bird can look relieved) Ah the power of cheese.
I was reminded of the song of the yellow hammer a little bit of bread but no cheese and thought it didn't know what it was missing.
I haven't heard it's song on my Merlin app bird identifier but I was amused to turn it on when I was in a car park at the back of a school playground. It was confused.
I penned this poem as a result.
Merlin bird ID
I turn on my bird song identifier
it listens to ambient noise
through my phone
it keeps me informed
Sparrow or owl?
Chaffinch or cuckoo?
I am at the back of a school playground
and in a tree there is a singing bird
Robin it says.
In the background the sound of school children
Pre menstrual teen
it announces
Robin it offers up again.
Spotted pre pubescent boy
Chaffinch
Red breasted lacto intolerant girl
Blue tit
The shout of the bully boy finch.
Sad homo sapiens crying in the bushes.
I look him up
he has migrated
from far across the seas
to find peace
in an English playground.
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