George

I first met George in the morning.

He caught my eye as I was going down the stairs which was pretty good given his colouring. I took a photo, ooo-d and ah-d and thought no more of it.

When we returned that afternoon, George was still there. On the flat roof not quite strutting around but certainly looking like he owned the place. We stopped and said hello ( do you do that sort of thing?) then shared our concerns. He was obviously stuck. Perhaps we should get a ladder. Perhaps call the RSPCA. Perhaps say a prayer and accept Nature would have her way.

The owner then joined us. Had I not mentioned we were on holiday staying in a guest house?

A number of other guests had become acquainted with George. Some of them not best pleased with the noise. Now this had me puzzled. He didn’t seem to be making any noise apart from an occasional squeak. The owner then pointed to the roof tops surrounding us. On each, there were at least 3 seagulls ‘on duty’. They had been feeding George throughout the day and letting the world know about it. If any man (or dog belonging to the owner) dared go anywhere near the edge of the roof, they were attacked quite ferociously.

When we left the following day, George was still there. He was making himself comfortable in the drains for the down pipes. The sentry birds were all still there and as we said our goodbyes we wondered just how long it would take for his wings to be strong enough to hold him in flight?

Better give out those ear plugs and someone call Alfred Hitchcock!!

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