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Today was a good day. There was not a single occurrence of animal fracas or butchery. No squirrels puncturing my shin with sharp teeth. No blackbirds busy with their beaks upon my forearm. No rodent pummelling. No dead plumage. That whole sorry episode is so out of character that i fear the impression it has given you.

Indeed, i have a fine and amicable history with God’s creatures. I have conversed with many a garden bird on a crisp autumn morning, whilst sprinkling seeds upon a bird table that i have carved with my own fair hand. I have whistled in unison with the blue tit, broken through a sheet of ice so that a magpie may sip. Squirrels have scampered up and down the length of my back garden fence, snatching monkey nuts from my loving fingers. I have encouraged colonies of ants. I even befriended a badger named Colin. Whilst i would not put myself squarely in the category of ‘animal lover’, i certainly would not consider myself vindictive of a feral beast.

Anyhow, as i said, today was quite splendid. My lunchtime stroll amongst the flowers was an inspiration. The ornate stony paths. The blue skies. I was whistling a song, a song i had so often whistled with my friends the blue tits, my face bathed in soothing rays, my eyelids closed. Suddenly, i heard a rustle coming from the bushes and out came a tramp. We looked at each other in astonishment, and then went our separate ways. This was literally the only moment of note in the whole of my shitty day. Damn, i miss those violent tussles.

Here’s a pretty poem i wrote, devoid of the zest of luscious violence:

I’m not about to say anything really
still, there’s rust on my skin
and as I lie in this flower bed
is it unreasonable to ask why

time is missing from my wrist
can I ask you why a truck has hit
furthermore could you assist
not a stitch of cloth on my soul and my leg is limp

you asked me if the flowers were sweet
I hadn’t tasted, I hadn’t thought to
though I have to say as I look around
the wonder of your garden must have knocked me to the ground

and then it came to me
could I say it happened here today
it’s those simple things, they leave you unaware

the soil feels good under my nails
I want to stand now, shall I try
so you walk me through, round the paths
and I smell the wood and it took me back
to when I was young I knew of nothing more
and as I fell
and as I fell
and as I fell
who’d have thought that I’d be caught