Winnie's favourite cock!
Her christmas squeak toy
The cockerel that roosts in the beech trees of the graveyard had gone.
The little bastard has been crowing lustily in the dark early mornings since he was dumped on me, and every effort on my behalf to catch him had failed miserably , so after several months surviving the elements , I found it strange that when we disappeared to Kent for a few days, he was gone on our return!
The mystery had everything of a Miss Marple adventure to it!
Who were the culprits of this heinous crime?
Was the abduction the responsibility of marauding badgers?
(Doubtful as badgers can't climb trees)
Or was it one of the residents of the lane, pig sick of the crowing in the middle of the night that might have paid a local hit farmer to blast the noisy bastard right off his perch ?
Could it be trendy Carol or her husband Ewan from the end house?
Or Viv and Mike from the bungalow? (They may be pensioners but I've always noticed a steely strong stare behind the spectacles )
Or could it be John and Mandy from next door? They may have grinned their way through my frequent apologies with a Crisp " no he didn't wake us us this morning!" kind of statement but I was sure they were gritting their teeth behind the polite smiles
Whoever it was , not a feather was left behind to shed light on the case!
And peace has returned to Bwthyn y llan
It's made my Christmas!