This particular toe, by the way, has been brutalised on many occasions since the first time, back in the '70s I think it was, when I was practising my arabesques on the landing outside the bathroom where we used to live. On that occasion, however, it suffered barbarically in that the foot of my leg hit the frame of the door as I lifted it, this contact culminating in my foot going one way and the little toe taking a different direction, for all intents and purposes, at a right angle. Now that did hurt and the painful upshot was that I couldn't get a shoe on for days because not only was it swollen, it wouldn't go back to its correct position either.
To cap it all, today I went into the aviary to feed the rescued magpie we are looking after; something I have been doing for the past couple of weeks. The aviary is the one that is home to our Reeves pheasant - Vic. Every day I have been going in, chatting cheerfully to Vic, then leaving without any bother. Yesterday I noticed he was a bit 'iffy' but today, just as I was leaving, he rushed me and pecked my leg. Now, that is the first time I have been attacked by a pheasant, and should - no doubt - just notch it up as one of those unique events in life.
Read on...
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