YOU can't take your eyes off wildlife for a minute.
They're likely to defecate on you, given half a chance.
Much of my day is spent either clearing the mess that somebody's domestic cat — hardly wildlife, but not overly domestic either — deposits in the garden, or putting in place security measures to keep the beast at bay.
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This included a water pistol, but it jammed on me last time, reminding me of my days in 'Nam.
If you've a problem with pooed-on flower beds, don't waste your money (I realised, after going through about £100 over the years) on scent-based deterrents. None of these works.
The only thing that works is harvesting spiky foliage from the rest of your garden and putting it down so they can't sit in comfort. It makes your garden look hellish, but it keeps them off what were once the nicest bits.
The trouble is they'll always find somewhere. I've also put up rubber spikes atop fencing, but will need to invest more moolah for that to work fully.
Still, at least it isn't just me. The Scottish Parliament is plagued with wildlife. And, no, madam, I won't accept sly digs about rats, snakes or running dogs of capitalism. Our MSPs are a fine body of men and burdz, who need peace to work free from interruption by wild creatures and their inexcusable lack of breeding, as it were.
At Holyrood, the problem is pigeons. They've even got into MSPs offices, possibly sent by intrepid reporters who trained them to take pictures of important documents. As if that weren't bad enough, sometimes doos are so inconsiderate they leave their carcasses lying around.
The Scottish Parliament is not a place full of people who run around, flapping their arms and shouting: "What are we going to doo?" No, it's a pro-active place. Accordingly, they've hired trained operatives to fire laser beams from pens at the beasties.
Well, I want one, please. The weapons "disturb and disperse" invading creatures, sending them homewards tae think again.
In my experience, alas, they probably think: "We'll be back!", and give an evil laugh. But the battle goes on. I'd rather deal with pigeons than cats, so if Parliament wants to do a house swap, I'm game.
Mind you, they'd find it cramped here. And I'd never be able to find my reading glasses in a whole parliament.