 Changing Places Week 132 W/C 24th August 2008
What is it about me and chickens? They feature in dreams of mine since Eric our long lamented King Charles cavalier spaniel shook one by the neck on a twilight walk on the common in Southwold years ago. The chicken didn't make it and I never looked at that dog in the same light again once I knew what he was capable of. That story has passed into the memory box of my god children who were on holiday with us at the time and the sight of a chicken will often prompt the re telling of the story. The walk up the mountain and over to the Port of Soller from our house passes lots of chickens and turkeys waiting for Christmas. They live a peaceful existence and peck at the ground and have a full `free range' life. Children collect eggs from the hen houses and show me proudly how many they have collected as I pass by on my regular walks. Our puppy Reggie - the miniature schnauzer knows the territory well and sniffs occasionally at the fence that divides him from the winged creatures but then moves on to more interesting smells. Well that is the usual course of events, but not today, the chicken nightmare was waiting to happen all over again.
We got to the point in the path where the climb begins and in front of us was a turkey that had got out of the coup. A turkey, a strong fast dog and mayhem of feathers. This bird was three times taller than the dog and was giving as good as he got and eventually squeezed himself into a tight corner by the farm sheds. Reggie is still small and a bit daft but the free flying turkey was appealing to his primeval senses and there was not a lot I could do except think of how I was going to apologise to the owner and pay whatever the turkey was worth. Reggie cornered the bird and I attempted retrieval of dog and expected to see blood and broken neck in front of me. Instead the dog was kissing the turkey who had wedged himself in so that the dog couldn't get him. Such a clever bird who on this occasion escaped his ending at the hands of Reg! As for me that's enough chicken experiences to last a lifetime. The peacocks and the charging sheep they are however another story. I am not sure I knew what I was doing in my relocation from London to this rural paradise where it's dog eat dog or rather dog eat turkey!
A trip to London to see my Agent- how grand does that sound! I have been summoned to the offices of `something, something and somebody' who have read these stories in the Bulletin and want to do something with them. To get the call out of the blue made me think it was one of those publishing houses that want you to pay for the production of your own material. Apparently not and they say that there is a whole world out there waiting to learn about the eccentrics who settle in Soller. Do I take that as a compliment or not and surely it's been done before. The wise sounding person on the other end of the phone says that the exodus from the UK is now such that there is a huge demand for warts and all stories about relocation especially to specific locations such as ours. Maybe it was those pictures of Bob Geldof and his daughter being hounded by the paparazzi just up the road in Deia or the other oddball `famous' that hang out on the Repic beach in the Port of Soller that has given us this reputation - not to mention our own home grown versions. I think an `eccentric' label is a badge of honour which I shall wear proudly as I keep my appointment. Meanwhile back at the ranch - our village house in Soller - I hope that Trev can keep the dog under better control than me so that the local livestock can live in peace.
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