Monday evening – Looking through the French doors of my East Ardsley abode I’m greeted by visions of solar rays, along with the redolence of recently ignited barbecue briquettes. With a symptom of COVID-19 being loss of smell and taste, this whiff of alfresco cooking brings an element of comfort I’ve thus far not succumbed to this odious pathogen.

With a family of blackbirds nesting in my garden, sheltered by climbing clematis and pyracantha enveloping the back fence, I was concerned to witness a cat endeavouring navigation of the shrubs vines/branches in pursuit of supper.

An action that was the catalyst of me walking to the open door and shout an underwhelming “Oi, shu!!”, leading the moggy to halt in its tracks, turn its head to look at the orator of this lukewarm admonishment, before continuing untroubled to find a route to the birds nest.

Irked at this arrogant feline’s ignorance, I’d half a mind to wander across the garden to shove my foot up it’s arse. However, as I’d never harm an animal instead, I undertook the yelling of “Oi cat!….. F*** off, you fat get!” as the next best solution to save the nesting avians.

Surprisingly, the cat paid no mind to this castigation. I’m unsure why, but guess he either didn’t understand the reprimand or, as he’s not fat, didn’t think this tirade was aimed at him! Consequently, the feline remaining focused on his suppertime kill in hand.

On hearing me shouting obscenities to a cat, my mum felt moved to wander into the dining room to see what I was ranting and raving about! On pointing out that I’d been admonishing a neighbourhood moggy, she chirped “For god’s sake get a grip!….  The cat’s harmless enough!

“What are you talking about, mum?!….. You hate cats!….. Plus, it’s not harmless, it’s trying to eat those birds nesting in the clematis!” I pointed out.

“It’s the circle of life, Gary!” she pointed out. Before cryptically adding “The strongest will survive, and the weakest will get Luncheon Vouchers.”  I kinda got what the familial matriarch was attempting to allay. Which bearing in mind I’ve no idea what most of her non-cryptic advocacies mean is pretty extraordinary.

As I don’t envisage the prey of any member of the animal kingdom receive those meal tokens, or indeed any food coupons, clearly the Luncheon Vouchers (LV) observation was metaphorical. Something I impart with the surety of knowledge that LV’s don’t exist anymore!

As I write, there’s not a sign of the aforementioned moggy in my back garden. Hopefully,  he won’t have got to the nesting avians……  I get the circle of life concept, but I’m averse to witnessing any creature taking the life of another.

While dusk nudges ever closer, I’m looking out of the French doors of my West Yorkshire  residence, gawking at a full moon. The sphere stares back at me as if to relay “F***ing hell, you’re the only person I know who turned into a werewolf before I arrived on the scene!”

Stay safe!…..  And if you can’t stay safe, stay away from Luncheon Vouchers!!…..  After all, you can’t cash the bloody things anymore!