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A fat, brindled-grey pussycat appears in the backyard. He is looking up at something that interests him in the ivy on the side wall. I stare at him through the window. He catches on- and returns my gaze. I think hostile thoughts. He drops his eyes, turns and hurries away.
I'm sorry, but I'm not having it. This backyard belongs to a family of blackbirds and a robin. Go back to your house and eat kitty-chow, fat, brindled-grey pussycat. You're not welcome here- beautiful though you undoubtedly are.
As the cat disappears round the side of the house I notice the robin watching from high up in the bare branches of the hawthorn tree. He's not stupid. He knew.
I'm sorry, but I'm not having it. This backyard belongs to a family of blackbirds and a robin. Go back to your house and eat kitty-chow, fat, brindled-grey pussycat. You're not welcome here- beautiful though you undoubtedly are.
As the cat disappears round the side of the house I notice the robin watching from high up in the bare branches of the hawthorn tree. He's not stupid. He knew.
