‘I see they have sent the reconnaissance team
out on a recce,’ Lottie says pointing her paw towards a big fat pigeon sitting
on my allotment neighbour’s fruit frame.
‘That pigeon will soon get frustrated here,’ I
reply looking at the pigeon. He is in his airman outfit, goggled-up and wearing his
black leather flying jacket. His chest is covered in his medals which were
probably awarded for successful dawn raids on the allotment plots and their
produce.
‘You know pigeons are just flying rats?’
declared Lottie looking at me then back to the pigeon. ‘I believe they are distant
relatives to Sidney squirrel and his mates.’
‘You may have a point there, but you never
catch one of them,’ I replied.
‘He’ll be waiting for reinforcements,’ Lottie says
as she adopts her ‘downward dog’ yoga pose. She is obviously now somewhat bored.
Whippets have a short attention span and unless it involves food or a game,
they soon nod off for a nap.
‘I know he's eyeing up my cherries on the tree and is just pretending to be resting. I bet he’s waiting for his mate so they can sit there
chatting like Cissy and Ada,’ I offered whilst my eyes try in vain to out-stare
the pigeon.
‘Ada, Cissy?’ questions Lottie.
‘You know Cissy and Ada, or should I say Les Dawson
and Roy Barraclough.’
‘Who?’
‘Sorry, I forgot they were before your time and anyway
you don’t watch TV, do you?’
Lottie does not respond but suddenly jumps up and lets out
a single warning bark. Her attention is clearly focused on the tree. The pigeon doesn’t flinch and his attention is also clearly now
on the cherry tree.
I look all around the tree and in the direction of
Lottie’s pointed snout. But I cannot see Freddie Fox or the moggy from the farm
and wonder what has upset her enough to fire off one of her rare barks. ‘What’s
up?’
‘Didn’t you see that little bird fly into the
tree have a peck at a cherry and then leave it and fly out?’ Lottie asks.
I look hard but see nothing.
I had given the cherry tree a hard pollard over winter
and I did not expect any fruit this year. However, the hard pollard had resulted in a dense leaf growth and the tree is now is laden with an abundance of fruit under each dense canopy. I secretly had hoped that the thick leaf cover would fool the birds, and hide the fruit to all but
low flying birds. I expected it to make it too tricky for the birds to fly into and out of unless
they were ace pilots and masters of all the necessary flying skills.
As if on queue, pigeon Ada now joins pigeon Cissy
and their eyes dart over the cherry tree. Their wings are crossed, and they
appear to be nodding in deep and meaningful conversation.
I bet they are secretly taking photos to take
back to the squadron,’ tuts Lottie.
I can visualize the pigeon squadron pouring
over aerial maps and photos and planning their flight paths and flying
formation to attack my cherry tree. I had resisted the temptation to earlier net
the tree and putting a net under it would just encourage them to come to
dinner.
‘Why don’t you build a scare crow it might
frighten them away?’ offers Lottie picking up on my thoughts.
Just then a little tit flew in and seconds
later flew out, having pecked at yet another cherry.
‘A scarecrow would not have stopped that
little one would it?' I offered. 'Why can’t they just take one instead of just pecking holes
in loads of cherries and spoiling them for all.’
Lottie who is now lying under the allotment bench and is clearly bored. I can see her eyes starting to close and she is ready for another nap.
The pigeons take off, they circle around the
tree and drop a couple of white markers over the tree.
'I bet when I come back tomorrow the
tree will be stripped and there will be a squadron of pigeons sitting on the
fence dripping with cherry juice and pinning more medals on each other.' I find myself talking to myself.
I don’t know about Lottie but I will not get a
wink of sleep tonight. I will be thinking about the envisaged Pigeon dawn raid on my tree. Should I have made a scare crow, or got out my ladder and bagged
all the fruit before others stake their claim? Mind you, a scarecrow would soon
be either ignored, or dive bombed by these pesky monsters and I also don’t have any
ladders at the allotment.
Later that night I finally go to off to sleep counting
pigeons taking cherries.
