Monday, 27 June 2011

Hilter and the Thrussian Offensive

You'll remember Hilter? The black and white cat that lives a few doors down from us, and has a little black moustache 'neath his nose that makes him look a bit like Hitler, but because it's ever-so-slightly off-set, not exactly like Hitler, hence his name 'Hilter.' (I have since learned his name is actually 'Smudge' but he answers to Hilter when he comes into our garden.)

Well. Last night, there was a FRACAS of ENORMOUS PROPORTION and VOLUME in the front garden. A fracas that sounded like many angry birds giving it large.

Indeed, that's exactly what it was. There, in the middle of the grass, was Daddy BB. Daddy BB is a young blackbird who, with his wife, Mummy BB, moved into the tree bordering our garden with next door in early Spring, and have entertained us with their nest-building malarkey and comings and goings with beakfuls of unfortunate insect life when their babies hatched about three weeks ago.

And there was Mummy BB, too, and she and Daddy BB were cackling and bouncing and screeching in a very agitated way.

I opened the window.
'What's up?' I said. They eyed me beadily, but continued to cackle and bounce.

And then I happened to glance down and see a black and white furry cat body directly below the window sill. It was Hilter. And he appeared to be wrestling with one of our flower pots. Except what he was really doing was trying to get at a Baby BB who was stuck behind the aforesaid flower pot and was screeching in its own I-can't-get-away-coz-I've-only-just-learned-to-fly-or-rather-plummet-which-is-why-I'm- in-this-mess.

Action stations!! Operation 'Save the Baby Birdie' swung into action.

Andy and I launched ourselves into the front garden, (we used the front door, not the open window) and lunged at Hilter who in turn flung himself into the hedge. This allowed Baby BB to fly (and I use that word in the loosest possible sense) away to safety. Except Baby BB decided that the safest place to fly would be into the hedge, too, where Hilter lay in wait.

Mummy and Daddy BB were going absolutely mental at this point. All four of us needed to locate Hilter and see him off the premises. Andy rushed around the other side of the hedge, I rushed into the hedge. The Parent BBs flew around mounting an aerial assault. We were all shrieking.

Hilter shot out of the hedge, across our drive and into the road. He was pursued by Andy and Mummy BB. Andy gave up the chase first. He reported that Hilter appeared to have suffered some kind of injury to his back leg.

Mummy BB inflicted? We don't know. But cor, did those parent birds defend their baby!! It was quite, quite spectacular!!

I left for work this morning with some trepidation, anticipating finding the remains of a Baby BB all over the path. But no. All seems well in the nest, and Mummy and Daddy BB are popping in and out of the tree with beakfuls of bugs as usual. And I know that one is supposed to let Nature take her course and not interfere with these things, but I regard myself as part of Nature and if I am in a position to lend a hand without causing damage to either party, then that's exactly what I'm going to do.

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