Tuesday, September 04, 2007

This morning as i was getting into the car to go to work, I heard a disturbance across the street. The local gang of crows, mynahs and associated hangers on were making a ruckuss. I usually hear them going off when Houston the Wondercat goes outside for his daily constitutional, so I wasn't surprised when I saw the source of their consternation was the presence of a large grey cat.

My initial thought was "that cat must have a broken leg or something," as he moved along with a curious limping gait, as if reluctant to use its front paws.

My next thought was "damn, that is one ugly cat." I then realised this was no cat - it was a local celebrity, Mr Possum.

I'm very familiar with the works of noted street artist extraordinare Mr Possum. His favourite instrument is the roof of my house, performing a jazz percussion solo and scaring my wife with his rendition of 'Prowler in Gumboots.' He finances his lavish lifestyle by raiding the fruit trees in my backyard, to the extent that nary a piece of fruit is ever seen on the branch, while the ground is littered with nasty chewed plumstones and banana peels.

I don't know what he had done to upset the local avian banditos, but one large, fat crow had decided that enough was enough, and Mr Possum had overstepped his mark in some way. Possum was attempting to follow the footpath to attend a no doubt urgent rehearsal session, unable to proceed as the large, fat crow stood astride the path and squawked indignantly. Mr Possum ducked left, the crow checked his advance. He weaved right, the crow was too nimble for him. He stopped, sat back on his hind legs, and put up both fists like a boxer and prepared for a stoush. At this point, I decided I had to get a photo of this.

I walked across the street, and although Mr Possum didn't even acknowledge my existence, the fat crow was a little more skittish and took off, taking his posse of miscreants with him. Seeing that honour had been satisfied, Mr Possum resumed his journey. I'd described his motion as a saunter. Sauntering next door, he lazily climbed the front fence and disappeared into a bush.

15 seconds later a bloke appeared around the corner, taking his dog for a walk, and conpletely oblivious to the drama which had just unfolded. I took a photo, but all I got was a disappointing grey blob camouflaged neatly in front of a brick wall. You'll just have to take my word for it.


At 2:02 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh u do have a way with words!

Poor Mr Possum!

From Therese


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