Wednesday 19 May 2010

Don't You Just Love Them (The Wife Not The Birds)

I got home yesterday and my wife was sitting in the Garden watching the birds, she then proceeded to tell me her tale of woe.  About 10.00 she observed one of our cats going into Stealth Mode in the Garden and heading in the direction of what she called "a cute little chick".  Both of our Cats are now in excess of 17years old and they dont do anything stealthily nor fast, thats why the birds in our Garden aren't particularly bothered about them.  She said she had been chasing Sox (the wanna be a hunter cat) away all day and when she couldn't chase it away she got a tea towel, a bit of bread and a glass of wine (dutch courage for what she was about to do) and walked up to the "little chick" which was still wandering round the garden after an hour, she then put some mashed up bread down beside her feet, the chick came to the bait and she scooped it up in the tea towel and proceeded round the front and into next doors garden, then she put the "little chick" there.  The method in her madness was to stop the cat getting it because there is a dog next door and our cat wont go in the garden, but the cat dosen't know yet that the people moved out a couple of days ago and there is no dog there now.  She then went back to our garden, but when she got there the "little chick" had ran through the hedge and was sitting there in the exact same spot she had picked it up from.

Just then the Mammy and Daddy bird (remember these are the beloveds words) appeared and started to feed said Little Chick.  I asked where these birds were as all I could see in the garden were a few Starlings and she pointed to this:
I had been expecting a little House Sparrow fledgling not a bloody big Starling Chick which despite it being bigger than "Mammy and Daddy" constantly bleated for food.  It did fly of sorts but when it attempted to land on the fence and posts it didn't fare to well and tumbled off a couple of times with Carole flinching every time and using those well known sounds and gestures of Ooohhh and Aaahhh (with pursed lips) and with her shoulders pressed up against her ears.    The parents stood on the ground and eventually the chick had to fly/glide/fall (or a combination of the 3) onto the garden where they kept feeding it. 
When I left for work (0455 for a couple of hours on the Derwent) this morning the wife came to the door to wave me off, normally all I get is a grunt, and goodbye as she pulls the Duvet over her head, she said can you check to see if "my little chick is OK".  Sure enough it was sitting in the corner underneath the bush with parents constantly feeding it, I imparted this information and she gingerley tiptoed out for a quick glance, couldnt see properly cos she had forgot her glasses so I had to take a pic of it being fed and stick the camera under her nose.  She then waved me bye and went back to bed saying "its alright you can go now".  

The moral of the above story is (No Idea but if you can think of one let me know) ?????????????????

p.s.  When I got home tonight Carole once again regaled me of the days doings which I wont bore you with except to say that there was now 3 "Little Chicks" all standing in a line whilst the parents fed them and that they were now walking inbetween Caroles feet whilst waiting for the next next delivery from Meals on Wheels Wings

1 comment:

Lesley said...

The moral of the story John, is that no matter how clumsy and ugly a creature may appear, we women will always find love and compassion in our hearts for it..... and that applies to our men also! :O)

I hope by now, Carole's 'little chicks' are faring well. :)