All day I hear nothing
From flat above;
Not a footstep,
Not a thud.
All’s silent and then,
With dread,
I wonder if they’re still alive
And hope that they’re not dead!
And pray that’s not the reason why
I never hear them move
Across the floor above
In thumpy-thuddy shoes.
To take my mind off
Thoughts of death and blood
I imagine that
The flat upstairs
Is home
To one gianormous slug.
Who never makes a sound,
Well,
Because he has no feet
And doesn’t need to go outside
Go to the shops or walk down the street
Because he’s filled his room with lots of houseplants
So he can just stay in to eat.
But safe to say
I’m reassured
At night when I try to sleep
I hear the very lively sound of
Noisy stomping feet
Then sigh happily that they’re alive
And smile, glad that I can still use salt.
Without the fear of dissolving my landlord’s tenants
And it being all my fault.

Night after night
I would hear heavy feet prance
In the room above
There was so much clomping and
Loud stamping and clobbering
That I’m pretty convinced
They’re teaching elephants
how to riverdance.

Because of cause elephants cannot naturally jump
So they teach them to dance
in an effort to (metaphorically) Thump
mother nature on the nose
And say ‘look at these elephants bouncing
Like pros.
You’ve seen Tigger spring about Winnie the Pooh,
But check out what these here elephants can do’

So that is my explanation to the noises upstairs
And I understand why it’s only at night because
To teach elephants in the daytime
Well, that would cause a whole lot of
Unnecessary affairs
And a lot of fuss
From the press
Who would publicise the classes to the world
And then elephants from everywhere
Would travel in their droves
With their hearts set on
Being able to one day skip and hop
And not have to sit down at the discos
Everytime they heard music for the jive or the bop
And the RSPCA would back it cause
They’d say it’s only fair
That elephants have the same opportunity to
Learn how to jump in the air.
And then there’d be a problem see because
There would be no space for all the elephants
To fit in a small, town house room
And expect to have space to river dance;
Well, what a stew!
So that’s why they hold the lessons at night,
In secret,
with a class of perhaps two,
Maybe three elephants at most.
And then they’re silent in the daytime because
Dancing wears you out
So they sleep until the night falls
And then they dance and prance about;
Very, very noisily
While those sleeping
And those trying to sleep below
Gradually doze off to the sounds of
The future elephant Michael Flatley
Upstairs practicing for their first dancing show.

Well, that’s one explanation
My alternative one is
That the flat above is home
To a nocturnal giant
Who likes to tap dance.
But that doesn’t seem quite as likely.

If you were a dog on a

lead attached to my van

in the sun without water

or shade or even a rug to

lie on, the RSPCA would

be banging on my door.

If you were a cat purring

continuously late into the

night the other campers

would throttle you or set

their dogs on ya, saying

we've enough of your

deci bells.

Dear Beth, thanks.

This reminds me of a real event some 7 years ago. Our home in an eastern suburb of Melbourne is surrounded by a few low trees. I was taking a walk and lo a tiny birdie dropped from a tree on a patch of grass below!  It was struggling and I noted that its mother was helpless looking from up the tree.  I held it in my right palm--it was shivering but its body was warm and its eyes were still twinkling.  I rushed home as I needed my wife to drive me to RSPCA as I couldn't drive (had not passed the stringent Aussie driving test).

The staff there were very helpful and promised the birdie would be well looked after.  One of them said: We hope to find a keeper.

A thought struck me and I asked: Should we give it a name as I will be phoning RSPCA to make sure it it's OK?

     It was April.   After trying a few names, we agreed on APRIL.

I rang up a month later and was told: April found a good home.

Clouds like feathers
Float in the deep blue morning sky

The sun, bathes the spaces
Between houses.

Brown leaves, dry and curled
Gather at my front door

As the winds of autumn
Shake the enduring trees

I walk each day
The same pathway

Looking for signals
Searching for signs

A still, rounded body catches my eye
And I cross the road

A hedgehog lies
Motionless
In the middle of Tickfield avenue.

Is this your final resting place?

I move it with my foot to the curb

It feels soft to the touch
Is it still alive?

I take a picture
It’s mouth is open
I can see its teeth

Is it over?
Is this how a life ends?

I take my train
Report the case to the RSPCA

And wonder
And wonder

It's Friday
And tomorrow

I will lay beside my wife
And we will share the weekend

Together

If you were a dog on a

lead attached to my van

in the sun without water

or shade or even a rug to

lie on, the RSPCA would

be banging on my door.

If you were a cat purring

continuously late into the

night the other campers

would throttle you or set

their dogs on ya, saying

we've enough of your

deci bells.

Bad Altitude.    


I have never been to a zoo
and not because I have
beast a phobia either!

I've been to the RSPCA
where I adopted a dog
and I sponsor a donkey

At the sanctuary back in
Ireland where abandoned
animals die in dignity.

My father used to say
that every chicken that
ever died, died in debt.

I think he was referring
to the damage they did
to his vegetable garden.

He never forgave them.
I wonder if Marius got
into the hanging baskets?




                                           Ryan for Marius ©
                                           Giraffe zoo@zoo.dk

Elana Zelenskiy has refused to give back

the vibrating Oscar lent to her by Sean Penn.


In an effort to heal the rift between Vlodymir

and the Dead Man Walking actor, Boris Johnson

has intervened yet again with a solution.


He said that instead of risking Patron the

Ukrainian Jack Russell mine sniffer, who is

active seven days a week, Boris is offering

Dilyn who is now superfluous. He added that

his dog could begin active service immediately.

British you know, needs no training. The suggestion

has caused an uproar in the principality of his Majesty’s

subjected. A delegation from Cardiff are currently protesting

outside the EX PM’s house in London accompanied by the

RSPCA and Battersea dogs home the  current whereabouts

of Dilyn according to some sources. A spokesperson for

the dogs home suggested that cats would be best as they are

lighter and nimbler. Prince Andrew has taken the lead and

waded into the furore by offering one of the Queens Corgi’s

instead o Dilyn. The response from Wales has been a call

for an independence referendum. The Scots in the meantime

have trained a monkey to find mines by placing them near nuts.


They fitted a metal detector under his kilt. When ****-of- itch the

monkey locates a mine he kicks up a racket and scratches his *****.




Ryan O'Leary

I was no saint, that is for sure,
a right *******, might be an apt
description, but, but, I was not
one to throw empty bottles out
of my car window when I was
drinking and driving, no, not I.

I'm dry now, trying to make a
fresh start, a late run, amends.
Joined the tidy towns, I did,
got me the gloves and a picker
upper of discardable's. Guess
what, I found a Jameson Box.

It was full, can't say that I was
not tempted, well, at least one,
but, my wife said, she never ever
wanted to see another in the house.
No choice, I gave her my word,
so, I handed them in to the RSPCA.

There are many permutations
of petting and heavy petting does
no necessarily mean we need to
go down to the local RSPCA and
adopt a Rhinoceros.

We can pet a cat or kitten, a dog
or puppy, keep it simple, start
small.

If one has no place to house an
animal or is not permitted to do
so in the terms of a lease, there
is an alternative, don’t despair.

An organisation has been set up
especially to cater for those who
wish to protect but can’t pet.

P.                     E.         T.             A.

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.

So, don’t feel as though you are
not permitted to be part of a
universal organisation of people
who can PET with pity and no
need for Kitty Litter or **** Scoops.

When it rains
Cats and Dogs
in Ireland, the
RSPCA do sod
all about it """"