A PACEMAKER'S DIARY

"Bastion!"
That was Squirrel's cry!
It was all it could say,
stalking along a treacherous fence,
a basking member of a clawed gang.

"Thieves!" was Thistles lament,
as was Timothy, Dandelion and Daisy,
a pouting of the blossoms only to let slip a child,
and a bowing and a curtsy to a disgusting tabby cat.

"Friends" purred Tabby,
his eyes slanted in a grimace - full of menace.
He turned to Dandelion,
but kept his eye upon Squirrel.
"Bushy tail, furry coat, fatted rat" thought Tabby.

A measured yard was all that was needed,
bouncing reflex upon the grass -
and he would have clawed the greatcoat mouse.

A reflexion ...

"'Twas indeed a night of liberty"
Tabby counted the number of bounds needed,
"What say you, young 'rel?"
Squirrel bade no answer,
but counted the number of bounds needed.

Timothy, shuddering, waved towards the grey ball,
and at once smelled the warning upon the wind.
Tabby, now a teacosy,
prepared for lunch - in silence, in his head.
"Yes, indeed" he nodded,
slowly positioning his muscles to the right - fractionally,
"A night of baying dogs and scratching bark ..."

... And he was gone!

Just at the wrong time, blast it!
just at the wrong time!
I was trying to keep straight,
you know, balanced like.
I timed it perfectly,
a slight adjustment - to the right.
It meant a time of letting go ...
... so I let go ...
... and slipped ...

Ooh, I can feel his claws on my back,
I struggled, I twitched - he laughed, he stabbed,
and I fell ...
... then I was on the ground and he was on the fence.
Only a great work could save me - something special,
something big.

Then
he lept
I moved
he hit
a spike
in the stomach
he screamed
I ran
... I think.

Could hear him
smell his fishy breath
hear his curses
taste his water
but I ran
... I think ...
into bushes
through brambles
out of ditches
past kennels
into holes
through doors
under leaves
branches
twigs
... and home!

...

But ahunting is Tabby,
poor hurt Tabby,
angry scared Tabby.

(I switched off the radio and opened the window.
There on my lawn was a bloody teacosy.
"Friend" said a slant eye).