Oscar the Grouch
One morning as I stepped out with a coffee in hand and a fag in the other - something small, fast, and very very angry swooped a bare inch above my unsuspecting noggin of a head. Shrieking loudly at the stupid human that had dared to invade their turf, one very small, but agressive little New Zealand Kingfisher gazed down upon his little kingdom and glowered. Not even the cats were exempt from the strategic attacks. Day in day out it's still the same old routine. I figured at this rate I'll have to invest in a motorcycle helmet or if things get really bad I'll raid someone's medieval armour collection and clunk around in well forged metal.
We named this little grumpy bird Oscar the Grouch, and I think Oscar the Grouch of Sesame Street fame would be pleased he has a namesake. Today though, Oscar got a little too agressive and in the haste to pick at some unseen victim, the little Kingfisher hit the window. The cats were quick to pounce, but not before I had got there ultra fas,t and nabbed said Oscar literally from the feline jaws of death. Cats were locked up and Oscar the Grouch was put in a nice quiet place to recover. I got a couple of photos before Oscar finally flew back to the grand tower called the power pole and shriek loudly - letting me know a truce would not be coming anytime in the next millenium. So does anyone please have a spare suit of armour - I think I'll be needing it...