‘If I didn’t come to keep you company at the allotment, who
would you like to be here with you?’ asks my allotment whippet companion Lottie.’
‘I am very happy that you come to watch over me’ I replied a
bit sarcastically.
‘It better not be Sidney and his gang.’ thinking about that
Mexican stand-off she had with him only yesterday when he climbed on the tree
over her head and taunted her on her bench.
‘Now why would I have a squirrel as a friend?’ I realise
that this is either a fishing expedition whereby Lottie makes me realise just
how loyal a companion she is, or it’s one of her I am bored I’ll ask some silly
questions mood.
‘I don’t mind it if you want to keep chickens,’ she says
with those doleful whippet eyes which either says she’s hungry and would love
some chicken, or it’s time to go home.
I sit back and my mind wanders to chickens on the allotment.
Some would like to keep chickens which would give you eggs,
maybe dinner and provide rich fertilizer. But we would have to build Fort Knox
to keep Freddie Fox and his gang out. I remember when the farm was putting up
extra fencing. I asked why and was told that unless it was well over a couple
of meters high the sly old things would climb up and over like it were and assault
course set to keep them fit. Then the fence must be extended underground to
stop their expert tunnelling skills.
In fact the crows are more problems to the farm as far as
the chickens are concerned and the phrase ‘headless chicken’ comes to mind.
I look at the farm’s ducks and geese, all of which have to
be locked up every night and let out in the morning and the same with the
chickens and turkeys and well, I can buy eggs fairy easily, I can buy chicken
manure, and I don’t fancy killing them let alone plucking my dinner.
‘Sorry Lottie, chickens aren’t allowed on the allotments’ I
tell her.
‘Ok no chickens but why is that Freddie fox always here?’
asks Lottie as she turns down on her pillows on the bench and flops into a new more
comfortable position.
Freddie could keep anyone company as he is a loner and keeps
himself to himself. At the slightest glimpse of a human, he’s off.
The problem with Freddie and his pack is that they have no toilet
training whatsoever. They poo all over and even on the vegetables. However, we
have a pact and they do keep the rats away and we leave them alone to police
the allotment for rodents. Considering we have a farm next door the only rodent
I have seen in some 6 years is Sidney Squirrel and the flying pigeons.
‘No, Freddie doesn’t like to make friends. The only company he
likes is the pack.’
‘Well if we ignore pigeons and squirrels who we both don’t
like, who’s left?’ asks Lottie.
‘There’s Robin,’ I respond quickly.
‘He doesn’t count. He lives here.’ Lottie says in a matter
of fact way.
‘Well occasionally I find the odd frog or toad lurking under
the squash leaves. I think they know they will get a daily wash and plenty of grubs,
but I haven’t the faintest where they come from or live’ I offer.
‘I don’t count them. They aren’t very good for anything but
to play with and to watch jumping all around when you disturb them.’ Lottie is
clearly getting bored.
‘They are good for the plot and don’t make any noise until
after dusk so are never heard by the plot holders.’
‘I can’t remember them saying anything.’ Lottie cleans her
face with her paw and settles down to have another nap.
‘A badger wouldn’t survive on the Isle of Dogs here in the
East End of London.’ I say.
‘A badger? No don’t know them’ responds Lottie.
I think about it and realise that although we may have the
ideal habitat in the Farm’s parkland they would have to swim across the Thames
or negotiate Canary Wharf and some very busy roads to get here. I think we will
always be badger free.
‘The one animal I would love to see here is a hedgehog’ I
say, thinking about the good works they can do on the plot. ‘They tried to
introduce them some years back but it failed.’
‘No way! They have fleas and spikes and I can’t play with
them at all’ Lottie says.
‘I thought this was about me and my companionship’ I reply
and Lottie starts to close her eyes and is now drifting away.
I would happily build a dedicated compost heap just for a
hedgehog, leave some cat food out each evening and know he would devour those
little critters even more efficiently than Robin and his flock. But alas it’s
not to be.
Now talking about bees…
‘You know all this virus stuff has to make you think about others
and companionship. And I am not getting any younger you know.’ Lottie mutters
as she closes her eyes and drops off.
I rise from the bench, pick up my watering can and fill it
from the trough. If I didn’t have Lottie with me at the allotment I would go
mad having weird conversations with other animals and birds, and that just
wouldn’t do, now would it?
