D8 BuT tEh RaBbIt!

Let it be known, that I now believe in the power of the lucky rabbits foot. On the way here, my Dad almost flattened one, and it miraculously survived! Thinking about it, most of the wildlife in Whitters seems to be quite lacking in brain power at the moment. It was only yesterday that my mother was telling about the pheasant that ambushed her while she was trimming the grass in our garden. Flew up into her face, all because it was frightened to death of the carrier bag she uses to scare off the wood pigeons. ¬¬. We're not even sure why it was there; in Whitters, the pheasants live on the side of the village. I can't help but think it was lost. Mother asked grandad - he was a farmer in his youth - and he says they're probably roosting. So great - more pheasants, on completely the wrong side of Whitters, smack in the middle of Fox territory ^^b.

It's not only the pheasants that ambushed my mother of late. You all have them, don't you? Weird neighbours; the kind you see on Escape to the country, who're dead set on retiring to the midlands and setting up a vegetable patch? Enter Chicken George. For years he's been stealing land, getting rid of the horses at the top of our garden and of late we wondered why. Well, it all became clear when i was summoned awake on Sunday morning by my mother's screams. Peeking through my mum and Dad's window, I was much amused to spot four and twenty chickens flapping round the garden - my mum flapping with them, spade in hand, yelling 'GAREEEEEEE'. It was like chicken run - only funnier.

Seems Chicken George moved to the midlands and stole all that land - for a chicken coop.