R.I.P.
Well, I knew it was going to happen someday....
Yesterday morning, only one baby oystercatcher could be seen on the roof, the other presumably having been stolen away by rapacious gulls some time after 4.00pm on Tuesday. This morning, no baby whatsoever. Mum was there, pacing round in circles looking confused and miserable. There was also a large seagull perched on one of the chimney tops with a very smug expression on its face. Boo, hiss. I'm currently fighting an urge to go seek out a gull and punch it squarely on the jaw.
OK, I know, it's just nature, and I shouldn't blame the predators, but I've got a problem with bloody gulls since one summer morning in 1999. Me and a mate had decided to grab some breakfast at a burger van in an attempt to cure hangovers of epic proportions. I managed to force down a wee hotdog roll, but my companion was more ambitious and had purchased a large burger liberally splashed with tomato ketchup. We sat in the car, nibbling away at our breakfasts, in a less-than-salubrious part of Aberdeen, until the hangover won, and the burger was unceremoniously discarded. Barely three bites had been taken from it, and the remains were large and solid. Almost immediately a gull appeared, hastily approached the discarded breakfast and snapped it into its jaws. Then, instead of daintily picking off beakfuls, it decided to tackle the entire (very hefty) burger in one fell swoop. I can't remember ever seeing anything so vile as that horrible gull neckin doon the hale thing at eence. You could see the shape of the burger through the bird's neck. It took it a good few swallies, but it managed in the end. Yeech. We, the hung-ower spectators to this performance, cowked for ages, and I've never existed comfortably in the company of gulls since.
O, wee baby oystercatchers, I'm sorry you never got the chance to grow up to reach that age where you 'd become embarrassed by your beaks. I'm off to find a gull to pit the heid on and avenge your innocent souls.
Yesterday morning, only one baby oystercatcher could be seen on the roof, the other presumably having been stolen away by rapacious gulls some time after 4.00pm on Tuesday. This morning, no baby whatsoever. Mum was there, pacing round in circles looking confused and miserable. There was also a large seagull perched on one of the chimney tops with a very smug expression on its face. Boo, hiss. I'm currently fighting an urge to go seek out a gull and punch it squarely on the jaw.
OK, I know, it's just nature, and I shouldn't blame the predators, but I've got a problem with bloody gulls since one summer morning in 1999. Me and a mate had decided to grab some breakfast at a burger van in an attempt to cure hangovers of epic proportions. I managed to force down a wee hotdog roll, but my companion was more ambitious and had purchased a large burger liberally splashed with tomato ketchup. We sat in the car, nibbling away at our breakfasts, in a less-than-salubrious part of Aberdeen, until the hangover won, and the burger was unceremoniously discarded. Barely three bites had been taken from it, and the remains were large and solid. Almost immediately a gull appeared, hastily approached the discarded breakfast and snapped it into its jaws. Then, instead of daintily picking off beakfuls, it decided to tackle the entire (very hefty) burger in one fell swoop. I can't remember ever seeing anything so vile as that horrible gull neckin doon the hale thing at eence. You could see the shape of the burger through the bird's neck. It took it a good few swallies, but it managed in the end. Yeech. We, the hung-ower spectators to this performance, cowked for ages, and I've never existed comfortably in the company of gulls since.
O, wee baby oystercatchers, I'm sorry you never got the chance to grow up to reach that age where you 'd become embarrassed by your beaks. I'm off to find a gull to pit the heid on and avenge your innocent souls.
posted by Cattie, Severin Books at 2:35 pm
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