Mister Scribbles

It had been raining, and the water soon turned to ice.  I was a long way from my destination, and the trees and moonless night kept me from seeing anything in the way of a guidepost.  As I reached a crossroads, there on a hill above the forest I spied what looked like firelight through a window.  Maybe someone will give shelter to a hapless traveler, I thought, and made my way up an old stone pathway that apparently led to the building above.  It did, and when I stepped out of the trees I saw the place was a crumbling ruin of an old manor, but there was a fire seen through the one ground floor window that was intact.  I walked up some steps to a door and lifted the heavy, skull shaped knocker and hit the door with it three times.  Nothing.  I tried again, pulling my old coat around my shoulders and adjusting my tail to keep some of the rain off it.  Still no answer.  Well, shoot.  I pushed against the door in a gesture of fu...

I'm leaving this bird rescue center I live in by the beginning of February.   For most of my time here I have enjoyed the work, the responsibility, and the feeling of accomplishment when I do anything that helps a fellow creature.  But I am no longer needed, and have become redundant.  With an expert mechanic, carpenter, and painter here, all I do now is mow the yard and feed birds.  A new person will be in charge, and we are not compatible.  One factor is that I do not identify with birds the way all the others here do, I am strictly Order Mammalia as far as animal empathy goes.  Of course that does not mean living things, any living thing, does not matter but I don't get worked up with a sense of mission and purpose re. avians.  If it was up to me we would not take in seagulls, horrible creatures although beautiful.  All birds are the remnants of the dinosaurs and most of them have the disposition of the same.  I like Jerry the Goose, he's ...