Thursday 4 June 2009

Gary Short poem about cats hunting

in the Writer's Almanac today.

Very apt because we had the present of a baby wood pigeon in our kitchen last night. Humphrey our loving but maddening cat had brought it home to eat in comfort.

Ugh. We've given it a decent burial in the garden this morning. And we're still waiting for Humphrey to turn up.

He's not staying away from shame. Definitely not his style.

Iit's because the tree surgeons are in the residential complex next to us chopping down the trees. Humphrey hates mowers, rubbish lorries and any other whining equipment.

Sad to see the trees go but they are very tall and maybe dangerous. Don't know but I hope they'll come back soon. Also sad to see them done this time of year rather than before they came into leaf.

Our cynical thought is that it's probably a budgetary thing.

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