Shadow Tail lived in a tree overlooking the home for waifs and strays. His bright and beady eyes never missed a trick and quite often, he would race down the tree, head first, and steal food from the hens.

     ‘Why do you steal our food?’ said a hen to Shadow Tail. ‘Aren’t squirrels supposed to be herbivorous and climb trees for nuts?’

      ‘Why don’t you mind your own business?’ replied Shadow Tail, gobbling up the hen food before anyone else had a chance to get some. ‘Anyway, why do you live here when you could be free like me?’

      ‘But we are free,’ said the hen, ‘and safe from the mouth of the fox!’

      ‘Suit yourself!’ said Shadow Tail as he scarpered back up the tree where he lived.  

      ‘And don’t come back!’ the hen shouted after him.

      But the squirrel kept going back and stealing the food. And every time he laughed at the hens for staying at the home for waifs and strays.

      ‘Be free like me!’ he would shout as he ran like a wild thing back up his tree.

      Then one day, something happened that changed the squirrel’s life forever.

       The lady who cared for the hens was walking down the road when she saw a car coming a bit too fast. But Shadow Tail did not see the car as he ran in front of it. This is why most squirrels die within the first year of their life. Thankfully, the lady ran to where Shadow Tail lay, bloody and cold on the road.

        ‘Thank heavens you’re alive,’ she said softly and took off her coat and wrapped it around the squirrel. ‘You’re coming home with me where we can take good care of you and make you well again.’

        And so it was, Shadow Tail went to live at the home for waifs and strays until he was completely recovered.

        ‘It is almost time for you to leave,’ said the hen. ‘I bet you’ll be glad to go!’  

         Shadow Tail was very quiet. He had come to love the home for waifs and strays and even enjoyed the hens company. They made him laugh with their pecking order. That would never do for him, he thought, he didn’t want to be in any order. He, Shadow Tail Squirrel was born to be free.

         ‘Yes!’ replied Shadow Tail. ‘Yes, I will be glad to go!’

         ‘That’s a shame,’ said the hen. ‘I was hoping you would stick around.’

         ‘Why?’ said Shadow Tail, trying hard not to smile.

         ‘Because we like you,’ said the hen. ‘We all like you.’

         And so it was, Shadow Tail told the truth and said he didn’t want to live on his own all the time but he did like his space up the tree.

         ‘If it’s ok with you,’ he said to the hen, ‘I will visit you every day but still keep my home in the tree.’ And that is what he did!

Rufus was having a bad day! Penny, his owner had gone to work and locked the attic window so he couldn’t join his canine friends.

     ‘It’s going to be a long day,’ Rufus sighed as he burrowed beneath the bedcovers, ‘a long, boring day!’

      Just as he closed his eyes, he heard a knock on the front door. His ears pricked up and his tail wagged wildly as he raced down the stairs.

      By the time he reached the door, the knocking had stopped. He sniffed and sniffed but couldn’t pick up a scent. Whoever it was had gone. ‘Boring! Boring! Boring!’ he thought to himself.

       Then there was a sudden banging on the back door. Rufus hurried to see who was there. He passed the ginger cat that looked up at him and yawned. Rufus gave a friendly little growl. He didn’t have time for cats, especially ones that didn’t make him run.

       Someone was playing games, he thought, when he reached the door to find there was no-one there. This was quite annoying!

       Deciding that the kitchen was just as boring as the rest of the house, Rufus settled down on the mat besides a bowl of biscuits. He wished for something exciting to happen and his wish was soon granted!

       All of a sudden, Rufus heard voices outside. ‘It’s all clear,’ someone said and a stone smashed through the window and landed on the kitchen floor. Not knowing quite what to do, Rufus hid behind a cupboard and waited. The back door opened and in came two strange men. One was carrying a sack and a small black bag which he placed on the floor. The other walked through to the dining room. They were up to no good, thought Rufus as he watched them from his hiding place.

        ‘Well what have we got here?’ said the man slyly and Rufus heard the ginger cat meow.

       ‘We could do with a moggie to catch the rats. Sling it in the bag!’

       Rufus watched in horror as the other man picked up the old ginger cat and put him in the sack.

        Woof! Woof! Woof! Rufus barked and ripped the sack from the man’s hand. The cat screeched as he escaped and hid behind the sofa.

        Rufus had an idea and ran out to the kitchen. He picked up the black bag from the floor and raced outside. The men ran after him, shouting for him to stop. But Rufus didn’t stop. He ran faster and faster.

        People in the street watched in amazement as a dozen dogs appeared from nowhere and began to chase the men that chased after Rufus. They barked and snapped at the men’s legs, making them scream in anger. A police car joined the chase and soon caught up with the men who were well known burglars.

       Rufus, tired but happy, dropped the bag where the police could see it and ran all the way home without stopping! His canine friends ran with him and they barked a warning to any thieves that lurked in the alleyways.

       Later that day when Penny returned home, she was bewildered to see Rufus and the ginger cat snuggled together on the mat in the kitchen.

       ‘How on earth did that glass break?’ she said to them. ‘Thank heavens you were here to frighten them away!’ The ginger cat meowed and Rufus wagged his tail happily.  

‘Keep going,’ a friend said to me today, ‘there’s a light at the end of the tunnel!’

    Indeed, I was in a tunnel when she called to see me. Or rather, an archway where a tangle of plants would wrap themselves around anything that stood still long enough. Me included!

     Well it made me think, about this tunnel with a light at the end. I guess if I didn’t clear it up and keep on top of things, then I doubt anyone would see the light at the other end. But it isn’t always that easy!

     I have often talked about the time stealers and tried to stay one step ahead of them.  Our home for waifs and strays takes quite a bit of effort to run properly and thank heavens my kind and unassuming husband is clever enough to do all of the maintenance. But always, around this time of year, things seem to pile up. I guess at times, I cannot see the wood for the trees, or indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel.

     So the past few days have been spent digging, planting, raking and repairing. There are poorly animals to see to and the not so poorly ones still need their check- ups! And then there’s planning for the year to come. I like this bit, as I always come up with exciting ideas...however, they have to pass go, in the form of my kind and unassuming husband.

     Remember the old summerhouse I told you about before? The one down by the pond! Well I’m hoping we will get it ready for next spring to let out for glamping (glamorous camping) which seems to be popular in this area at the moment. Also, we hope to start and b&b at our home for waifs and strays. It’s an idea, and I love ideas!  

      But for now, I have boiled the kettle and about to take a cup of sweet tea out into the garden where the sun still shines and I will take time to look for that light at the end of the tunnel!

My dear Araneus diadematus

Why do you spin your web across my doorway? It is not that I mind of course, but I’m always afraid of spoiling your creative work when my face becomes entangled with your silk. I can see your body is swollen with eggs and your dedication as a mother, is second to none. So I watch, with a heavy heart, as you build a silken sac in which to lay your young. The children, you will never live to see.

      Do you know that by late autumn, you will die? Your devotion will cost you your life you know? Your refusal to leave home to hunt for food, will lead to starvation. If I could feed you, I would.

       Please don’t worry about your spiderlings when they are born in May, I will watch out for them! And I will write them a letter too, telling them of your love and selflessness.

       From a devoted friend and admirer

Half a moon guided me home across the moor this evening and made me wonder at how much my life resembled the celestial body that hung like a pendent in the dark sky.

     My father often used to say I was half tidy, meaning that with a bit more polishing, I would come up to scratch! But I have never polished up beyond the half tidy look, and I prefer it that way.

     ‘You do things half heartedly,’ my father said, and he was quite right, sometimes! By the way, the things he referred to at the time, were homework and experiments. The type of things my father took pride in.

      Driving across the moor, I began to wonder about the books I started but never finished and the films I began to watch (and really liked them) but fell asleep before the end. The conversations I only half listened to but wish I had taken more interest in. Especially when they asked my opinion at the end!

       How many songs do I know all the words to? Hardly any! I love to sing, but I usually get half way through then have to hum the rest.

       Is it too late to change? Was the moon trying to tell me something? Perhaps I should listen to the whole conversation and finish all the stories I have left half way through!

       But I can say this, my cup if almost always, half full.  That must count for something! So for now, I will eat the other half of the apple I just put aside and think about the other half of my life. The half I have been neglecting.

       Thank you moon! And may I apologise for calling you half moon when in actual fact we see you in a quarter moon phase. But we earthlings, so prefer to call you half a moon, it is so enduring!