Aahh! Country life. A cabin in the forest, a beach close by. The Rents* on the sofa reading. Me, patrolling the perimeter. This is the life. The Manservant in Notting Hill first introduced me to squirrels but they were those drab grey things, which I guess is the trendy colour for anything in Notting Hill these days, from living rooms to vermin. But here, they have squirrels a bit like a Fiat 500 – red with a white stomach - and they are in the trees, 10 metres from our back door. When I get let out for my constitutional, they run around the tree tops, tormenting me, whilst I sit patiently at the bottom of the trees, waiting for the day one of them will loose his grip and fall into my clutches. They even chase each other up and down the tree, spiraling as they play chase but the dratted things don’t even give me a sporting chance. Damn cowards.
* paRENTS – acknowledgement to Gracie.
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