Legends from our own lunchtimes

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Friday 12th July - Lamotte

When a shadow moved in the shrub next to our window last night, at first we thought we’d seen a rat although we certainly hadn’t smelled one.   

A few minutes later the shadow climbed a little higher, skilfully pruning branches without the aid of secateurs.  Then we noted that its tail was too short and its body too fat to be of that particularly malicious species. The fact that it had a tail meant we could be fairly sure it wasn’t a guinea pig, and not that we’d ever seen a beaver as far as we could recall, we were pretty sure it wasn’t one of them either.  

Our attempt at fauna classification was admittedly a bit half-hearted, but we presumed it to be one of the vole family we more usually see swimming near the water’s edge.  We were never introduced, and she continued to ignore us into the evening diligently collecting her prunings and dragging them into what we presume was a burrow just out of sight below the landing, either that or she’s building a bonfire and planning to smoke us out of her backyard.

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