Yesterday I was out at Nellybert's. Jakers' pet rat Jimmy had passed away and I thought it would be nice to bury him with the other rats (Pepe, Rocky, Polly and Meka). Jakers was in the kitchen and I heard him say "Oh My God that is the cutest picture ever" Jakers isn't a softie but he was, indeed, looking at the cutest picture ever of my youngest niece holding a wee orphaned fox cub. Approximately two minutes and nine seconds later I saw Bert charging across the yard, towards the hen house, hootin' and ahollerin'. Fantastic Mr. Fox was trying to make off with the rooster and a hen.
I watched from inside the house as Mum, Bert and Jakers looked stoically at the hens (Bert had to wring the hens neck to put her of her misery). I thought about the fox being cute. I thought about the circle of death (I don't like John Elton so I ain't gonna quote him). I thought it was a shame that the hens died anyway and the fox had nothing to take back to the den to feed it's cubs. I thought about how fickle life is, how natural death is and how constant it all is. I thank god that Ziggy is a dog and not a rat, or a chook, or even a fox. I accept that he won't be around forever but for how ever long he is around I promise to make his life full of forest walks and cow dung.
There's other news but I'm holding my cards close to my chest. I have five aces. I know, that's not even possible. But anything's possible really. You just have to believe. Mr.Rob wants to see my freakish fingers. I hope they're not a disappointment as I have claimed that having long fingers is one of the few things I'm good at.
2 comments:
Well those are long fingers and I tried to get my own fingers into the same position but failed. All it proved was that was my hands dont twist about like they did in the past and that I need longer finders to be able to do that anyway.
AH foxes and hens are a fickle mix indeed, the local farmers here go lamping from time to time so Mr Fox is seldom seen. . . .
Five aces sounds good to me, and I am sorry to hear about the driving test. The most annoying thing about that is the cost of doing it each time. During world war two folk got to drive without having to pass a test so world war three might mean you get to drive without the need for a test. . . .assuming there are a few cars and roads left.
I was once stopped at a party by some guy on drugs who was fascinated with my hands. People tell me they are piano playing fingers but I feel that without a piano playing brain the fingers are somewhat useless.
Haha...it would be a real shameif I had to wait for WW3 before I'd be allowed to drive. It'll be my turn one day :)
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