I was rudely awakened this morning by Beaky screeching his head off in the garden. When I finally couldn't stand it any longer, I struggled out of bed and peered, bleary eyed and bespectacled, out of the window. From the godsawful din the dratted bird was making, I expected to see Beaky being attacked by a cat. Not your common or garden domestic variety, of course, as they wouldn't stand a chance. More like one of these:
However, no sooner had I twitched back the curtain than he ceased the racket. I saw him perched in the cherry tree looking pleased with himself, before defecating and flying off.