The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2431 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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“Will you shut the door?” I barked at whichever of my errant offspring had left it open. “It lets the mozzies in.” That wasn’t strictly true, we had insect mesh over the doors and windows, plus shutters to keep the sun off—overkill, perhaps, but then I didn’t buy or fit out this house, we just ‘inherited’ it sort of as gift from Henry. Simon might have difficulty getting me back to England, it was so lovely here—except they don’t have hazel dormice. Nah, I’d miss them so much I’d have to go back eventually, in a couple of years.

I was still blown away from my walk that afternoon, and checking my list against a list I found on the internet, that I didn’t notice who left the door open again. Bloody kids. Someone had secured the insect door open and forgotten to close the proper door. I heard giggling from the pool area and three of them were playing in the water again.

I spotted the gecko—apparently, a Turkish one—I couldn’t argue because it would hardly show me its passport, would it now, but the little bugger shot off as soon as I turned up with a camera. Bloody lizards.

I went out to the pool and told them they could have half an hour, it was already nearly dark, although still warm. They’d messed about in the water most of the day, I hoped they weren’t too burnt as it had been quite warm—the weather, not the pool.

Si phoned and I went to take it on the landline. I probably bored him silly with my list of birds and other things, after all he’s been here several times, though he’s not a bird watcher, unless he’s shooting them. That’s not allowed here, and Menorca is registered with the UN as a biosphere for its variety of habitat and wildlife. It’s just an amazing place.

“So I take it, you like the place?”

“Like it, I love it. If ever we split up you can keep your draughty old castle, I’ll have this place as part of my settlement.”

“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“No, silly, I’m just staking my claim.”

“You can’t see rutting red deer from it can you?”

“No, course not.”

“You can from the castle.”

“Ha ha, you might if it stops raining.”

“There is that, what’s the weather like there?”

“Warm and sunny; over there?”

“It’s not cold but there is a breeze and it has stopped raining about ten minutes ago—no, I tell a lie, it’s a sort of misty drizzle.”

“Mummy, come quickly.” Trish rushed back out of the house with me in hot pursuit and a cold feeling in my tummy. I was half expecting one of them to be lying at the bottom of the pool.

“What?” I gasped.

“Up there in that tree, it’s a owl,” she pointed up at the tree where the unmistakable outline of a little owl showed against the sky.

“Clever girl, it’s a little owl.”

“A baby?”

“No, it’s called a little owl because it’s quite small.”

“Will it grow any bigger?”

“No, sweetheart.”

“Is that the smallest owl?”

“No, they also have a Scop’s owl which is slightly smaller.”

“Do we get any of the pop’s owl?”

I wonder if she’s deaf because she seems to miss half of what I say to her and I can’t work out if she’s deaf or bored. “Not pop’s, it’s Scop’s owl, and we don’t get them, but we do have little owls, they were introduced back in the nineteenth century and have spread over much of England and Wales.”

I left them to their playing by the pool and went back to my call. “Is everything all right?” asked a near frantic Simon. “You were gone so long.”

“Sorry, they’re fine, they wanted me to see a little owl which had perched on a tree in the garden.”

“Phew, that had me worried for a few moments.”

“You worry too much.”

“Someone was trying to kill you a few days ago.”

“Oh that’s old hat nowadays, assassins are so passé.”

“So you’re enjoying yourself?”

“It’s bliss, all I have to do is convince the girls they want to walk all day long to explore the place.”

“Good luck with that, getting a lifeguard for the pool might be easier.”

“You’re probably right.” He’d given me food for thought. If I got someone in to watch them, like Mrs Winner or her hubby, I could take those who did want to walk and we could all have fun. I’d have to ask them—the Winners and the girls.

I went back to my lists and my camera and the photos I’d loaded on the computer. Most had come out quite well, even the ones of the dog.

“Wotcha doin’, Mummy?”

“I’m loading and labelling my photos.”

“Ugh, is that one eating the other’s head?”

“Yes, they’re praying mantis, and she’s preying on him while they mate.”

“He’s letting her chew his head off while they screw?”

“I don’t like your expression, Danielle, but that’s about the long and short of it.”

“Ewch, I think I’m glad I’m a girl not one of those preying whatevers.”

“Mantis, eating him while they mate makes him more effective and nourishes her to lay her eggs, so while he won’t live to see it, his genes have been passed on.”

“Bit hard on him, isn’t it?”

“It certainly means he won’t two-time her if that’s what you mean?”

“A bit extreme if you ask me, was he dying to do it or something?”

“I suspect he must have been.”

“What’s that?” She pointed at the photos I’d taken of the dog.

“Oh, that was some mutt I managed to help free from some netting and wire.”

“It’s bleeding, isn’t it?”

“It was.”

“Was it all right, in the end, I mean?”

“As far as I know it was. I had to cut it free.”

“It looks frightened.”

“It was that, all right. Ended up nearly choking itself to death.”

“Poor dog. Wouldn’t he have chewed his way to freedom?”

“Come off it, Danni, he was trussed up like a turkey in a straight-jacket.”

Danni thought my suggestion of a turkey was best left unstated as she’d never seen a turkey or a straight jacket.

I tried to describe the scene as I anticipated it but she was having difficulty visualising it, and I suspect she was in her element otherwise. She doesn’t like thrillers generally, preferring happy endings. Sadly, life doesn’t always follow such preferences.

As we were talking there was a shriek followed by the crashing of dropped crockery. Danni and I rushed to the kitchen to see Jacquie was near hysteria, and the floor was littered with bits of china.

“What happened?”

“It’s in there.”

“What is? In here?” I indicated a cupboard and she nodded.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, a rat or something.”

“Okay, leave the door wide open please and keep out of the way.” Amazingly, they all stepped aside except Trish who had her camera in her hand.

I threw open the cupboard door and Trish’s camera flashed. Blinking back at me was a dormouse.”

(Photo of Garden Dormouse, courtesy of Wikipedia)