We've been getting used to having Mr Grump as king of our back garden, seeing off everything that dared go near the birds' fat cake, up to the size of a male blackbird. Despite this aggression, there was something odd about him, the way he flew low, and skulked around in the bushes, and seemed to hunch down on the ground, as if his legs were too short. But he was a character, coming daringly close to us. In this he followed....
....in a long line of robin 'characters' we've known, many of which became very tame. This one used to join us on the top terrace at Matenderere when we sat up there for our evening 'sundowners', and there was another which used to help itself to the Bombay mix.
On Thursday of last week there was evidently something wrong with Mr Grump. He squatted in the dust right next to 'his' fat supply but didn't react when a male blackbird began helping himself.
Then, on Friday morning, he didn't appear. We kept looking for him but there was no sign of him. Worse....
....another robin, one he had seen off several times, appeared in the garden and began eating Mr Grump's fat cake.
So we fear the worst for Mr Grump. Instead, we have a new king robin in our garden - but thank you, Mr Grump, for the all-too-brief pleasure you brought us.
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