Happily Ever After

Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running

Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.

A Tickle in the Throat

by admin - 20:50 on 25 May 2010

Life can be tough for cats, but pine martens sometimes have problems too.

Master Marten returned to the environs of The Rural Retreat yesterday evening, just as the light was fading, to hoover up the Nutella placed on top of the garden gate by his caring hosts. This is normally no problem for our mustelid mate.

But the unseasonably hot weather has caused a treeful of pussy willow to burst open – for days the air has been filled with a snowstorm of floating white down. The prevailing wind carries much of it towards the gate where fluffy seeds meet sticky hazelnut spread with predictable results.

The resultant confection was clearly more chewy than Master Marten expected, as the snap above demonstrates.

He did his best, and cleared his metaphorical plate, but second helpings were too much to face. Rather than search for more sweet treats in The Nutella Tree, he scampered away, probably in need of a good drink.

Before he disappeared, in a bid for as good a photographic portrait as the dim conditions would allow, I tapped on the window to attract his attention. He looked up then went back to his Nutella. Subsequent taps were ignored. Not all wildlife is shy.

In weeks to come I'll open the door when he's on the gate and offer more fruit-and-nutty treats. By the end of the summer he'll be eating from my hand.

Also becoming bolder is Bess, who's not only grown used to Spider's presence (albeit hidden away for now in the spare bedroom) but has also seemingly reached an understanding with Romeo.

Matchgirl surprised the two of them in the bushes this afternoon. What they were up to is unknown, Bess not being that sort of a cat since she was vetted many years ago. But when Romeo ran away Bess followed him shortly afterwards.

I suspect they're plotting how best to bag a pheasant or two; Mr P's early-morning shrieks may be disturbing their sleep as well as ours.

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