Given the events of the last few days, the deaths of comics and sirens, old men slipping away without a murmur, the continuing tragedy of the
Middle East, or Rolf Harris giving away
signed cartoons to inmates at his prison to buy his safety. I think that on balance
I’d rather be with the dolphins.
I don't know how they managed to swim through the air to our bird feeders, but somehow they did. Mind you I was asleep and probably smiling; for once my dreams didn't include meetings and car keys and various missing items of clothing.
Drinking my coffee, I began to wonder. Animals don’t seem to have news, particularly bad news, and if they did it’d probably be about a change in the wind or where the best bird table was to be found. Animals aren’t constantly bombarded by terrible and terrifying information about who’s killing who or who did what and for why. Oh, it happens to them just the same – the cat pounces, the hawk swoops – but it isn’t expected and it hardly ever makes the news.
Unless of course you count Facebook.