KILLING SPREE

 

Darkly silently it glides in feet first, before retracting it’s wings to maintain a balance.

The deadly work then begins.

Poking, snapping, devouring, young frogs from their underwater dwelling.

I know it is nature and we should not interfere.

However, our frogs are becoming rarer and now need saving.

I’ve deepened the pond, and rigged up preventative fishing line, to stop their ease of access.

It will not totally prevent the crow's raids.

Just decrease their killing spree.

So frogs will still come to my pond at mating time.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Crow Photo by Chris Linnett on Unsplash

Frog Photo by Dulcey Lima on Unsplash

The Fish Pond Photo by  Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

SCARY WALK

 

Early one morning I made my way to my railway station, and on crossing the bridge over the railway line I looked down for a moment to see if there was anyone on the platform.

To my amazement strutting along the railway line, pausing every now and then to pick up some tasty bite to eat was a beautiful Cockerel. 

The sun shone on his feathers and showed his plumage off to perfection. The wonderful orange and coppery colours on his head and body ended in a swirling waterfall, of curling glossy black feathers.

His upright bright red comb crowned the top of his head, and two alert black eyes and a bright yellow beak completed his handsome appearance.

For a few moments, I marvelled at him, then suddenly I awoke to the danger this lovely creature was in. He continued along the line unconcerned nearer and nearer to the station platform.

I rushed down the stairs, thinking as I went, ‘The train is due at any moment, I have got to chase him off the line.!’ Once on the platform, I looked down onto the line and he had gone!

Then I saw him again walking totally unconcerned up the slope onto the far platform which as the station was a terminus was never used these days.

I spoke to him and asked him to go home which was the worst thing I could have done as he thought, as all fowl do, that I was offering him something to eat.

‘Oh no.’ I quickly turned my back on him, as I could now hear the sound of the approaching train. I held my breath till the train stopped and I hurried on board so that I could rush to the far window to see what had happened to my friend the cockerel. 

He was nowhere to be seen, I just hoped he had run the right way back the way he had come to the safety of the farmyard he had escaped from.

If he was foolish enough to continue his adventurous walk he would be entering the territory of a family of foxes who lived at the far end of the platform. 

They too, I am sure, would have, been watching him strutting nearer and nearer their dens not with admiration at his beauty, but in anticipation of an early tasty breakfast served right on their doorstep.

I am however quite confident that he escaped back to the farm and the hen house, to tell a sceptical flock of hens how he had escaped from an absolutely huge scary monster.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

MURDEROUS AWAKENING

 

I was meandering my way to breakfast, dropping off and collecting things I needed for the day. I walked into my lounge and was startled by screams coming from outside the glass door, and the sight of two teenage cubs, fighting over what looked like black and white feathers.

Lily was lying flat, tail level with the floor, and the fur on her back raised in battle mode, nose on the glass. It was then I realised what I was looking at was the remains of a magpie. Poor thing!

Suddenly, in pad the mother fox, as thin as possible, with her teats looking like a depleted milk bar. Obviously, the cubs were still looking to her for backup food. She raced about, hoping to find a morsel to satisfy her hunger. There was nothing left, just the long wing and tail feathers.

I longed to feed her but I knew it would be wrong to do so, or Lily, the older cat who has become mine, might also become breakfast or supper.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Jeremy Hynes on Unsplash

JUMPING JACK

 

Jumping Jack the goldfish lives in my fish pond!

He is golden and sleek with a swift turn of speed.

When I turn my water pump on, the water starts gushing and bubbling out, he is there in a flash, splashing, leaping and rushing about.

Up in the air at times he hangs, for a second suspended, when down with a splash into the dark depths, quickly vanishing, his great jumps ended.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

SWIMMING TO AND FRO

 

I admire what I do not see, little fish swimming in on the gentle lapping tide. Seeking the tasty morsels that heat has caused to rise.

Enjoying a banquet now laid bare, before being dragged back to a deeper depth. To be wary and dodge becoming someone else’s tasty dish.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

ON MY LAP

 

On my lap, over time, have lain in mutual contentment babies, three, gurgling and playing games with me.

Cats in distress, five, have sought long, safe moments of rest, ’til safely rehomed.

The cat who wishes to be mine still climbs aboard to be patted and praised, with rolls of purrs my comforting reward.

Dogs, three, have fidgeted and wriggled ’til able to curl there, too.

Not to be outdone, our lovely bird, when chattering at the TV, used to perch on the top of my knee and peck my skirt’s hem. 

Those moments, so precious, recently came flooding back when I sat with an empty lap and no one sitting on me.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

A SCREECH OF TERROR

 

I was sitting restfully for a moment after an active afternoon when screeches of terror shattered my peace again and again. 

An animal in trouble: what and where might it be? I listened for a second or two, trying to decide which way to go. 

Then a dog barked and growled aggressively around the side of the house. My first thought was that the dachshund had come for a return visit.

I headed for the front door, anxiously wondering what I would find. The screeching continued, seeming to come from across the front lawn. 

On opening the door, I caught sight of a young fox running towards the main gate, still crying pitifully in terror.

I equally anxiously clapped to attract the animal’s attention; the dog went on to join a couple in the lane; the fox ran back in, still screeching. 

Streaking across the lawn, it headed straight for a neighbour's solid wooden gate.

I gasped in despair: what are you doing? Only to see it flatten on the ground, squeeze its way under the gate and vanish.

The cries ceased and peace returned. I just hope it did not receive any injuries in the encounter. 

My other hope is it finds another escape route, as it was a young, growing fox and might not be able to wriggle under the gate much longer. 

Take care, my young friend, take care.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Linda Jake on Unsplash

OUTDOOR TRIP

 

A treat: a bacon toastie grasped ready for the first bite, a cup of tea steaming gently close at hand, as we huddled together to make an outdoor trip plan. The decision was made, to the Ferring Country Centre we would go.

On arrival, we saw animals in the outdoors; hens, rabbits, ducks in a ring, sunning out of the chilling wind. There were goats, some standing high on a fake castle wall. They always have to do that, to lord it over us all. Others poked their heads over the fence to the next enclosure where the grass was so green and freshly tender. They practised the art of daylight robbery, with no qualms at all.

Further on were the Alpacas, some resting and chewing the cud, others sitting looking at us majestically, wondering why we were improperly dressed, with no thick woollen hats just like theirs attached so cutely to the tops of their heads.

We watched the budgerigars flitting through from cage to cage, jabbering away, stopping for a cuddle, a snack, and a stare back wondering perhaps why we did not have other things to do.

Photos taken, we moved into the cafe for cappuccinos, milkshakes, and a cake, before setting off for the main task of the day: new plants and compost for hanging basket revivals, to keep them colourfully swinging all summer long. 

My granddaughter, too, had her time on the swings and one two other things.

Into the greenhouses, we went to choose the plants and meet some of the gardeners who worked hard to grow them from seed. They do an amazingly good job and enjoy doing it, too.

Back to the checkout to pay up and look good. Trolleying our purchases back to the boot of the car and clambering in, we declared it had been a great day out!

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo © Ferring Country Centre

CIRCUS WASH DAY

 

In the Circus, in South Africa, wash days are sometimes very exciting and at the same time very anxious times.

You can never be quite sure what might happen, as often there is only one water tap, for all the animals and the humans too.

The water runs into a long open tank. Can you just imagine that?

The humans have a timetable, which tells them when they can use the tap and tank.

However, wild animals can smell water from a long way off and do not know anything about working to timetables.

They just appear when they are thirsty or fancy having a bath.

It takes a long time for elephants to have a drink?

They don’t just have one or two cups or glasses of water like us.

They have gallons and gallons of water at a time.

During this, a lot of sucking, splashing, spraying and dribbling goes on.

The humans have hardly any warnings about these untimed visits.

They are sometimes unable to move their washing or dishes out of the way to safety, quickly enough.

No amount of shouting or waving stops the thirsty animals.

So cups, plates and spoons are often trampled underfoot, in the mud!

Skirts are occasionally worn on the elephant’s head, like big colourful fancy hats.

Trousers too are flapped around by the elephant’s trunks, to use as towels to dry their backs or chase clouds of very irritating flies away.

Once the drinking is over mud begins to fly, and the area around the tank and tap becomes muddy.

Elephants are very sensible and use mud-like suntan lotion to protect their skin from the very hot African sun.

The mud is sucked up their trunks and blown over their backs in a dark, muddy, brown spray and sometimes they roll in it, legs waving in the air.

Elephants, when they leave the water tap, have no respect for washing lines.

Often in triumph, they carry them off, as they go on their way, trailing all manner of clothes in the mud and dust behind them.

Leaving very angry humans, to collect their scattered clothing and start another big washing day.

What a wash day!

Glad we don’t have any of those, as it could be very irritating and expensive, but oh what fun!

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

ANXIOUSLY WAITING

 

A fox is sitting on the lawn, anxiously waiting gazing intently alert to every sound

Does she have some cubs I wonder? 

It is the right time of the year, it is true. Or are they still tucked up keeping cosy?

As spring warms up she will bring them out, to share our garden and have a play. 

It is then we will get to know them, while they learn their survival skills. When to hunt, stand their ground, or turn and run away. 

For the moment they need the curiosity to explore, safe in the garden with their siblings mock fighting and cuddling, sleeping their growing up young lives away. 

First of all, we have to wait and see, does she have any Cubs at all?

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Pixabay License

SHEEP CONCERNS

 

Two sheep standing in silhouette against one another in a sun-drenched paddock. 

One said out of the side of his mouth to the other. 

“Ten minutes then we will change sides, as I heard the Farmer say we have to be in the pink, not well done.”

A kneeling sheep staring into the grass is spotted by a mate. 

Who asks “What are you doing.”

“I’m trying hard to see if enough green grass will appear for tomorrow’s meals, as I have to grow a new coat before winter.”

A sheep contentedly grazing in a valley suddenly looked up, listened, then called out to another sheep.

“Shep! There is going to be a huge storm tonight.”

“How do you know that Lambie?” He called back.

“Well that bloke who just drove past real fast, blasted the news out from his radio. 

Amazing what you hear when you are not really listening.”

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 

TURKEY TROT

 

I am a turkey with intelligence pretty well stuffed.

With a flock I am the leader, they always obey.

With a flick of my wing they can go or stay.

Occasionally challenged over a mate I have chosen,

Feathers fly there is a blood-spattered commotion.

When parading through our patch,

A human appears which I quickly dispatch.

They do not know what to do with us!

We straddle the road, no car can pass,

As we gobble our objections.

They are scared to alight in case we rush them,

Pecking, striking, bashing them about.

They sit some patiently, others in fury,

As we meander as slowly as possible,

With an occasional stop to preen an itch.

In snowy winter we pathetically gather,

With steam rising from feathers drooping,

Till they say poor things and throw us a snack.

Which we gobble up before poohing straight through.

Leaving we shout our thanks.

Don't worry, we will be back!

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License 

BEAUTY AND DRAMA ALL IN ONE SHOT

 

Entering from a dark woodland into a bright clearing, breathtaking scenery meets the eye. 

A frilly water-filled shimmering lake. A wide expanse to stretch your gaze, with a backdrop of hills fading in a mist slowly away. 

Reeds and bulrushes bend and sway in the gentle wind. Yet, in amongst this beauty, death awaits the unwary. 

A stoat bides its time, to snatch in a moment a fish listlessly sleeping off its mealtime. 

The stoat carries home its trophy to its family awaiting and once fully content, they too curl up to sleep, but not to snore.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photos: Pixabay License 

WINTER SUN CAPTURE

 

The fox is down the garden, viewing a sunny spot in the corner by the fishpond.

He makes his way towards it, sniffs and turns around and around.

Lowering himself gently into the sunny, cosy spot he has found.

He shuffles a bit more to make room to tuck his four paws underneath his body.

With his bushy tail covering them, to keep them nicely warm on top.

He takes another glance, with his head and ears up, to make sure it’s a safe place to be lulled by the warmth for a much-needed sleep.

After a night of hunting and chasing all to grab a tasty feed.

Down goes his head as he bathes in the gift of some winter sun.

Before having to slope off underground in the dark when others come out to play. 

I hope tomorrow will be another sunny winter’s day.

© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

SQUIRREL & CROW

 

Early one morning, a grey squirrel found something tasty to eat on the lawn.

A black crow flew down to a meal; He too had his beady eyes on.

As the squirrel ate, the crow made a quick grab with his beak for the squirrel’s tail. The squirrel turned quickly shrieked, frightening the crow.

The crow, hopped off, to wait and try again. He was determined not to fail.

The squirrel’s tail, curled upright into a nice shape to help keep his balance, while gripping and nibbling his tasty snack. However, every time the squirrel bent his head to eat the food on the lawn, his tail lay out flat behind him upon the lawn.

It was then the crow made sneaky attacks to grab the squirrel’s tail and failed every time he made a pass.

Round and round both would turn, neither willing to give in, for twenty minutes to and fro the battle lasted. Then the crow stalked off, as he knew the squirrel’s speed on the ground, he just could not master.

Once the crow was out of the way, the squirrel finished his meal and ran swiftly for safety up the nearest bushy tree.

2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

RETURN TO THE ZOO

 

It is a happy day, a very happy day. Yet, do you remember it was not always that way? 

A bug called Covid crawled in and everyone stopped calling, for days and days and days. 

But did you ever see it? I never did, the bug I mean, yet it disturbed our lives in so many ways. I hoped I could find it and trample it beneath my feet and life could return again for us once more. 

The staff kept on washing and washing every one of us and every house in the Zoo. I used to love a bath and a good scrub, but you can have too much of a good thing. Old Crocodile became quite crotchety every time they asked him to open his mouth for a spray. I for one had to warn everyone to keep out of his way. 

The monkeys drove us to distraction with their noisy frustrations, as the public stayed away and it was yet another extra banana-free day. 

My friend, the giraffe, kept parading around, searching and searching, head held high, trying to see further than anyone else, reporting back, “Even with my most excellent vision, apart from the staff, there is no one to see.” 

Mr Lion stopped his constant roaring as there was no one to impress; he was so depressed. We asked Mrs Turtle if she could explain, as she was the oldest and wisest of us all. “Mrs Turtle, do you know what is going on?” 

Her reply calmed us a bit, “I remember a long time ago something similar happened. It seemed to last forever; then one day, Mr Snake announced it had gone as the public were starting to queue to come in. Even the ice cream vans had started to deliver, ringing out their appearance once again.” 

As an elephant, I too will never forget the arrival and departure of that terrible Covid bug. And the day the Zoo returned to normal, it was great and, oh boy, did we celebrate. 

2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

MR FROG’S AMBLE IN THE DARK

 

Mr Frog was out later than planned, and was hopping back to the pond when he heard a rustle and a call, “Help me, someone, help me!” 

With caution, he hopped nearer, pausing to listen. It certainly sounded like someone in trouble, but who? 

“Help, please help me! I am over here.” 

He hopped closer and saw a snail lying upside down on its shell. “Oh my, what happened to you?” 

“I was having a lovely munch on some fresh runner bean stalks, when I was plucked away by a big crow. I was terrified, as I could not see the ground. Another crow came and attacked the one carrying me, and he let go. I was falling, falling, then bounced on a small bush out into the open ground, upside down, defenceless. Can you help me?” 

“Yes, of course I can.” 

Mr Frog hopped around the snail, trying to see the best way to help. 

“I have got it. If I puff my chest forward, you can reach out and slide yourself upright again. Do not linger too long as I am ticklish, and your slime is difficult to wash off; no disrespect as I know you cannot help it. Let’s go; quick as you can, as those crows might be back to take both of us this time.” 

Mr Frog took a big breath to extend his chest, and the snail reached out and slowly slid upright again. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” 

“OK; enough of that. No time to waste; head for the pond. There is a big rock on the left, with a damp hiding place underneath, big enough for you to stay safe. I have checked you all over, and your shell is not broken, so you should be ok. I am jumping into the pond to wash this icky slime off. Take care; see you around.” 

With a couple of leaps, he disappeared beneath the lily leaves and, after a bit of thrashing around, settled under one, ready to capture for supper any stray insects which might be flying around. 

2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Daniela Silvia Serban

THE SNEAK THIEF

 

I was sitting writing at my desk with Lily relaxed on her cushion. When she sat up abruptly startling me. I looked above my laptop lid to see what was happening.

I laughed as two young foxes were playing with an empty butter carton, fighting over it on top of each other. Throwing it up in the air, before scrapping again. It was amusing to watch.

All of a sudden they stopped and headed for the wild pond to have a drink. I continued to watch as one headed towards their den hidden between our neighbourhood gardens. 

The other came nearer to the house. I wondered what he was going to do. I almost burst out laughing, which would have scared him off. 

He was eating the loganberries growing on the lower branches of the bushes. I could not believe what he did next, he stretched up to his full height and pulled the branches laden with loganberries down towards him. 

He was having a wonderful feast. 

I did not know foxes ate berries, now I have to inform my young man what was happening to the Loganberrys, and why he only had a few for us.

Our garden is a hive of wildlife activity, which keeps Lily and me amused.

© 2023 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Pixabay License

SATU AND LILY

 

The quality of calm communication

Based on the writing of Penny Wobbly 

Satu and Lily sat in the sunshine

Idle talk between them

About a Human with dyslexia

How that matters and what affects them

Dog and Cat had made a pact

The individual and not what be

Judging by common perceptions

Borders on obscenity

Satu spoke and Lily listened

Replying with wise words

Different languages are true but like me and you

The message still was heard

Just laying in the rays

Soaking up the Sun

C and D in unity

Relaxing having fun

Often did if truth be known

For no judgment but their own

Open to possibility

Open to what might be

Ian Wilcox

Photo by Pixabay

There's C's and D's and then there's Humanity

 

There's C's and D's and then there's Humanity:

I sometimes chase you but that’s just play

A bit of fun and exercise

While they just sit watching that thing.

Yet they think they are wise

There are C’s & D’s and Humanity.

The conundrum we try to solve

As each one of us accepts the other.

How did they evolve?

It’s all right for you as you’ve got a flap

A lap on which to sleep

Me I get a bloody kennel.

Outside where things they keep.

I guess you have your share of hardship.

Putting up with all that smell.

But you can have the best of both Worlds,

Mine is sometimes hell.

Indoor ain’t always fun.

As they play music so loud my ears are numb.

My posture is wrong on the arm of the chair.

When a comfortable lap is waiting there.

If I try to manoeuvre into places I am sharply told,

Get back on the floor, 

Paws that are muddy should remain outdoors.

You are a disgrace.

I sometimes envy you.

Then remember it is not always that good.

I sometimes get to go inside

That comfort is so misunderstood.

How do you accept it?

How do you tolerate

The things that you do

All that hugging when they choose

Yet when it suits the proverbial boot.

Like they have nothing much to loose.

I look at you running freely outdoors

Before a collar and lead keep you in check.

Stops you from pausing for those fab smells to inspect.

When they take you off for those magical things called walks

You never tell me what happens, why don’t you talk?

Ha, ha, ha!

Like your friend, it is horses-for courses.

Apart from those that walk on two legs.

I love the weekend when you are allowed in.

You curl up beside me, snuggly tucked up warm.

With your breath parting my fur.

I remember the days when we were both new.

They let us play and stay together.

Our bond grew strong that is why we get along.

Now they are stressed at the end of the day.

We make our move sliding slowly close to them.

They don’t know it but we are natural de-stressors.

We need food, water, love and walks 

Then we are there all the time.

There are Cats and Dogs, 

Then there is the human race my friend.

© The Two Friendly Poets

Photo: Pixabay License