parrots

Les perroquets verts

~ iamthesunking ~ 9 Comments

Cat Daddy and I have decided that we aren’t making the most of living in London, and that we ought to do more London things. To be honest, this is by no means a recent revelation. We have known this for some time, and it became especially apparent last year when I took a French friend on a Thames boat trip: “There’s a nice building. No idea what it is. Look, there’s another nice building. No idea what it is …” and so on. 

We have a book about strange and unusual sights in London, and, to my surprise, when I consulted the “South West London” section for things to do and see, I discovered that the Angry Birds were listed as one of the “attractions”. Yes, THOSE Angry Birds. Or, as Cocoa the babysit cat calls them, “main course”:

https://louiscatorze.com/2018/08/20/les-oiseaux-furieux/

Last year they drove us absolutely insane with rage with their screeching and, on one occasion, when I couldn’t stand the racket anymore, I looked outside to see that the Louis Catorze was winding them up. Now, it seems, not long after discovering the extent of their célébrité, they have started to drift back. Cat Daddy spotted a couple the other day on the telegraph wires behind Le Château, and they may have come back to nest and feed but it’s more likely that they’re looking to lay their vengeance upon Catorze.

Given that birds are able not only to recall the faces of individuals who have wronged them but also to encourage their bird friends to give said individuals some grief, I really hope Sa Maj will mind his own business this time. After all, a small, black cat with vampire teeth and a voice that could strip paint is pretty distinctive, and there’s no mistaking him for some other (nicer) cat or vice versa.

The Angry Birds can be found on page 266 of Graeme Chesters’ “London’s Secrets: Bizarre and Curious”. Their location is listed as Richmond Park although, in reality, they can be found all over West London and, rather like the Aurora Borealis, encountering them is more due to chance than anything else. Should you happen to meet them, it’s probably best to deny that you’ve even heard of Sa Maj.

Here he is, reminding them of who’s king around these parts:

Les oiseaux furieux

~ iamthesunking ~ 17 Comments

Cat Daddy and I have been struggling to sleep since returning from holiday. This is partly down to our post-holiday body clock stuffage, but also because of the Angry Birds, a flock of attractive but maddening bright green parakeets who have nested in the park across the road. Our neighbours hate them, too, and, if we are to hope for any sleep at all, we have no choice but to either keep the windows closed in the heat or to do Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who will be the one to get up and shut the windows once the racket starts at dawn. 

Cocoa the babysit cat is doing his utmost to keep their population down – and has had some success – but he has a way to go before he makes a significant difference. Not that we actually want to see them all killed but, after several consecutive nights of no sleep, we can’t help but cheer on Cocoa just a little bit. 

Sometimes a squawky magpie or two also join in, resulting in a cacophonous chorus of “Screech-screech-screech-screech-screech-screech-screech-screech-cawwwwww-cawwwwww!” It’s quite the most dreadful thing imaginable. 

Not long ago I was forced to get up upon hearing the hellish alarm call, because just lying there would have made me more annoyed. I looked out at The Back and saw about a dozen or so parakeets perched on the telephone wires screeching at something below them. And now I know what has been making the Angry Birds so angry. Most of them flew away when I went outside, but I managed to catch one bird with the object of its enragement:

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Oui, Mesdames et Messieurs: what’s making them so cross is a little black sod, pitter-pattering about the garden, stopping occasionally to look up at them and meow back. As I watched, open-mouthed with shock, I observed that the meowing only made the Angry Birds’ screeching worse, which in turn made the meowing worse, and so on, just as it does with Oscar the dog’s barking. Oh. Mon. Dieu.

I have no idea whether the Angry Birds are screeching to alert their comrades of the potential predator danger, or whether they are just shouting insults and swear words (which, frankly, is much more likely). Whatever the reason, we apologise unreservedly to the neighbours who follow Le Blog and, erm, might just keep quiet about this when we bump into the neighbours who don’t.