WHISPERING SMITH: Time to cry out over loss of cockerel’s morning call

It would seem that some nearby resident, possibly a newcomer to the countryside, has been complaining about the nasty habit of the big birds welcoming the morning and awakening them from their slumbers.

It beggars belief, really, that such a beautiful and hopeful sound could have such an effect. What could be more promising than a dawn cockerel bringing you the good news that you are both alive and facing the dawn of a new day?

I am writing this at four in the morning, awakened from my not unpleasant dreams by the endless cooing of a lovesick feral pigeon on my windowsill. Perhaps we should rid ourselves of those, as well as the early-morning sea birds?

Yesterday it was an inebriated person walking past my house, shouting obscenities at himself as he staggered along. Who will rid me of him?

Surely, far better to be awakened by a cockerel any morning of the week than a pigeon or a drunk, or is that just one old bird enjoying the morning with another?

I HAVE a new neighbour across the street from me. I have seen her but the once, a young, blonde lady.

Each morning, when I look out of my window to see what the day has to offer weather-wise, I spot this huge white cat with an almost human face staring disdainfully at me from across the void. A lovely flat faced feline, not pointed as a cat’s face should be.

We stare at each other for a while and then it vanishes and moments later, the window is closed, as if by an invisible hand.

I mentioned this to my daughter on one of her weekly visits and offered the suggestion that perhaps the big white cat and the blonde lady were one and the same entity. It was just a passing thought.

She stared at me for a while, and suggested it might be time to either give up the grape or maybe consider sheltered accommodation. I do not know which of the two suggestions seemed the more unpalatable In future, I will keep my more fanciful thoughts to myself.