I’ve spent a hefty portion of the weekend focusing my energy on photography. On Saturday morning I was up early and raced to the moorlands nearby to watch the sun come up and photograph the herds of deer that are congregating in preparation for the autumn rut. It was a clear, crisp morning and the sound of bellowing stags echoed around the heathland – what a great way to start the day.
In my good mood, I headed off in search of king fishers at my local nature reserve – I had it on good authority that a pair had been making a regular appearance and I drooled over some of the photographic evidence. King fishers are on my list of ‘must photograph’ animals – needless to say, it didn’t show up.
Today I took part in a sponsored photography walk in aid of a local charity. My photography group, I Just Wanna Tek Gud Photos, spent 2 hours on a historic tour of Sheffield, taking photos along the way. The fruits of our labour will be displayed in an exhibition come November and the money from any sales will go directly to the charity.
So for today’s post, I thought I’d forego the cartoon and share a photograph or two.
My partner and I are keen wildlife enthusiasts…ERM…correction, ‘I’ am a keen wildlife enthusiast. My other half is one by default and can often be seen skulking around in the background whilst I avidly take photos or try to stroke anything that has fur, feathers, scales, exoskeletons, shells etc. You get the picture.
When we are on our travels, I’m always looking for exciting Wildlife Encounters and wasn’t disappointed on our recent trip to the Isle of Mull, where the eye watering scenery, wildlife, walks and opportunities to relax are in abundance. On every journey we take travel notes and I attempt to sketch some of the highlights. By far the biggest highlight of our holiday this year, was getting up close and personal with puffins on a day trip organised by Turus Mara!
Walking to the shops earlier this week, I passed a lady, perfectly coiffed, with two dachshunds in tow. Looking rather forlorn and somewhat embarrassed, both dogs were draped in sparkly pink coats and matching collars. Had their hair been long enough, no doubt it would have been styled accordingly.
We all do it to some degree, but should their be a cut off point beyond which our desire to anthropomorphise (sp.?) our pets becomes animal cruelty? If they could talk, I should imagine these dachshunds’ tales of woe would all hinge on their owner’s desire to dress them up like barbie dolls. No doubt the poor mites are laughed at by the other dogs in the park on a daily basis…
Having said all that, I couldn’t help dressing my cat up at Christmas! – he looks happy doesn’t he?!
And whilst I’m on the subject of domestic pets…how about this as a method for taking your dog for a walk? (snapped from the car as I drove past)
Yesterday our big fat ginger cat left for a new home and a new life. The decision to give him away seemed sensible given that we will be starting a new chapter in our own lives too. A move to a new city, a new job and a new flat (which doesn’t allow pets) meant we had to make a difficult choice.
Since adopting the cat three years ago, he has been the source of many different emotions: annoyance at his 20 minute conversations that consist of ‘meow, meow, meow’ even after he’s been fed and groomed to within an inch of his life; murderous when he tangles himself around your feet if you are in a hurry or carrying pans of hot food across the kitchen; disgust at his tendency to drool whilst purring and padding in contentment on your tummy or worse, when he sneezes the excess drool over your face if something tickles his nasal passages; amusement at his ‘mad’ half hour when he runs around the house batting anything that moves; delight when he loudly attempts to sneak up on a fat pigeon then visibly sighs when he inevitably fails; but most of all, he made us love him and now he’s gone, the house feels empty and the rooms are all quiet.
There’s no one to great you as you step through the front door or feline calls of ‘is anyone there, I need company?’ if we are upstairs busying ourselves in the office. I miss the half hour before bed time when he chooses to sit on my lap and keep me company with a purr like an outboard motor. My big, fat ginger friend has gone and I miss him. So here is a tribute to fatty – I hope they look after you in your new home and appreciate your loveable personality and odd little quirks!