The pigs have had a week's reprieve. The butcher's son couldn't pick them up and the "transport" that was going to fill in so to speak, never materialised, so after flagging down the red faced welsh farmer on the main road and enlisting his help, I have provisionally booked them in for next Tuesday.
It's been another gloomy wet day here and I feel it has been a bit of a waste hanging around for phonecalls and the like, however in between the showers, I have spent a little time getting to know Rooster Cogburn, the blind cockerel from Alton Towers.
He's a sweet natured lad, who is well used to being handled, and despite not really knowing me or my voice as yet , he sat carefully on my knee when I picked him up and stayed calm and still as I stroked his feathers and checked his eyes.
Eating and drinking for him seems not to be a major problem as I think he can just make out his bright green feeding bowl in his one barely functioning eye, however all it takes is a finger splashing the water in his water bowl or a rhythmic shake of his corn and his head is immediately down eager to find out what is available.
Putting Vinegar tits in with him was a bit of an inspiration, for he seems to love the company of another bird, and I have found it rather touching to watch him occasionally reaching out with his beak to comb through her feathers in a gentle gesture of contact
Yes he is useless, he has not even got enough meat on him to make 4 points on a weightwater's supper, but looking at him sitting still in his run, alert and careful I think that there is something quite valiant about him and his gentle ability to keep going