The Taxidermist's Daughter

The Taxidermist's Daughter by Kate Mosse
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The year is 1912. I wonder why Kate chose that year. It's of no consequence however apart from setting the scene for a Gothic style chiller. 50 pages in, I stifled a yawn. Where is this going? What do birds have to do with this, apart from the theme of taxidermy. 100 pages in my curiosity was aroused. By page 200 I was hooked. Well and truly hooked. The pace quickened. The atmosphere darkened. The characters took on different guises. The location was wild and dark and chilling. A mesmerising plot line full of evil deeds. A Sussex location steeped in folklore and mystery. A horrid event comes back from the past to haunt the present. I raced through the last 200 pages, breathless, intrigued, spellbound. Well done Kate Mosse. The Taxidermist's Daughter is another classic that deserves my recommendation.

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Birders: Tales of a Tribe

Since 1972 Mark Cocker has been a member of a community of obsessional people, almost all male, who sacrifice most of their spare time, a good deal of money, sometimes their chances of a partner or family, even occasionally their lives, to watch birds.

As a keen birder I thoroughly enjoyed BIRDERS: TALES OF A TRIBE even though it was published 13 years ago. Cocker's anecdotal approach to what makes a "twitcher" is perfect, some extremely funny. Above all BIRDERS is the story of a community, of its characters (many of those mentioned now dead), its rules, its equipment (this section actually prompted me to buy some Alwych notebooks) and its adventures. A wonderful examination of what makes birders tick.

Preoccupied

I had to take one of our beloved cats to the veterinarians today. Oliver. Our wonderful Oliver. Now in his fourteenth year. A constant companion. A wonderful black and white cat that we homed from a rescue almost thirteen years ago. A gentle soul who loves to 'hide' beneath the jasmine, who 'chatters' at birds in the garden but has never harmed one. He wouldn't. He lies next to me now as I type this post. I will keep him safe as long as it takes.

Oliver has been losing weight. Two weeks ago he weighed just 3.69kg. Today, at the vets, he weighed 3.61kg. A loss of 80gms. "That's less than a sachet of food" I told myself. Our veterinarian, Matt, palpitated Oliver's abdomen, looking for a 'lump' that our other vet, Paul, reckoned he could feel two weeks ago. Matt was not convinced. But Oliver has been suffering with diarrhoea for two weeks, on and off, and I have noticed some blood in his motions....

We steered Matt away from a full CT scan. I didn't want Oliver subjected to the rigours of full anaesthesia. But we agreed to a full geriatric blood screen. Our lad had to have both sides of his neck shaved to obtain sufficient blood for the tests.

This is when, as an animal lover, as someone whose pet is helpless, who relies totally on you, this is when your bottom lip gives way. Ros and I have shared our lives with cats for forty years. We have experienced the heartache of losing treasured family members too often. That feeling of loss never changes.

I look at Oliver now as he lies beside me, on the table... and I well up. I cannot stop thinking about the 'phone call' I will get tomorrow from Matt with the blood test results. I don't want to hear anything sinister...

I just love Oliver too much.