So, yesterday at breakfast time, Mr. GBH didn’t have much luck in our backyard. After flying over to the other side of the water to see whether he could find better pickings, he decided to return here just before lunch. He stood for a few minutes peering into the water, then all of a sudden disappeared from view, triumphantly emerging a few seconds later, proudly bearing a very decent catch.
“Wow, look at me now!” he bragged as best he could with his mouth stuffed full of hapless, wriggling fish. “No point in fighting. Your fate is sealed, and there’s no escape for you my fishy friend. Just keep still and and I’ll have you down the hatch in one gulp,” he promised, as he struggled to manoevre his unlucky prey around to a more manageable angle.
In less time than it takes to say “Fish for lunch,” poor Mr. Fishy who had just been out for a bit of Sunday morning swimming practice, found himself right inside his captor’s expanding gullet. With the strains of Pink Floyd’s ‘Goodbye Cruel World’ echoing in his head, he descended into the blackness and mercifully knew no more.
“Well that was absolutely delicious,” said a very satisfied Mr. GBH, as he strutted off to find a shady spot for his siesta.
I hope your week is happier than was Mr. Fishy’s Sunday. Perhaps you’ll be as successful as Mr. GBH. It just takes a bit of patience and perseverance to get the prize.
