So the last week has seen me working from home so I could get my furkids settled in and happy.
Suffice to say, my transition to the UK is now complete. 100%
My furkids and my kid are getting along just fine, no-one has had a tail broken or a claw raked across the face (yet) so things are looking extremely positive for their adjustment to Welsh living.
Ok, who am I trying to kid? They are decimating the local shrew population. I went online to see what effect on other life this would be having and found out that only seriously starving animals will eat shrews because they have a scent gland down either side of their bodies that makes them taste awful to owls and other small rodent predators. That explains why their little mangled bodies have not been eaten. So far they have caught at least 2 a day since Sunday last.
That is 16 shrews (and one mouse)…
The website I found www.mammal.org says that there are only up to 50 shrews living in a hectare. So at this rate in 2 weeks there will be none in this hectare of land… I am actually quite grateful that they a) don’t eat them and leave me the squibbly bits as a present in my shoes (yes that has happened before) and b) that the shrews are so prolific and short lived that they have not much in the way of natural predators.
Alright, that’s all about shrews, what about the chicken in the title of this post?
Last week I noted on Facebook that Slap (my Alpha-male) had been stalking a chicken, clearly bewildered, excited and afraid.
This weekend saw alot more activity than just poor Slap’s confusion at seeing uncooked KFC for the first time in his life.
On Friday evening all six of my furkids were out and about in the garden as Emm, Maggie and I sat around having a chat in the evening sunlight.
One of our neighbours chickens had also decided to venture into the relatively abundant food supply area of our compost heap.
Well, Ted, Molly, Soothica, Jazz and Slap all stalked smartly to a safe distance of SEVERAL meters away, all dead keen to eat the chicken, all clearly shit scared to launch an all out assault. Let’s face it, a chicken is a large bird, much too large for a cat to kill unless it was prepared to risk serious injury.
Alrighty, they did get more interested and get alot closer, but no serious takers in terms of actually living the dream, realizing the walking KFC family feast dream…
Emma and I laughed, sheesh, the deep throaty guffaws attributed to those about to seize power using only a matchstick and a small keg of explody stuff…
A while ago, Whiska’s did a commercial about a cat sleep-hunting buffalo,
Emm and I were chuckling about a great idea for Nando’s in line with this.
Picture it, cats stalking the chicken, sneaking up, getting close and thinking “hey, thats not Nando’s bollocks to this, and walking off…” Or even just what we see – cats stalking a chicken – what they see - a Nando’s spatchcock in the garden walking around…
Bloody nice having these little critters around again, has made my home complete, now if only I could import all of my friends…