Tag Archives: tail

14th November 2013 – excitement

Nose pressed to the ground, tail wagging. Criss-crossing his master’s path, short legs pumping. The lead restricts his movement, but never his enthusiasm.

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5th November 2013 – chocolate Labrador

A woman bustles past him in a hurry. His tail wags halfheartedly as she passes, hoping for a friendly pat. He looks crestfallen for a second, then resumes his watch on the shop door.

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25th October 2013 – magpie

His tail spreads out in a black and white fan as he tries to balance against the wind. He struggles on the wire for one purpose: to attract his mate. His high-pitched cackles are whipped by the breeze and carried … Continue reading

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18th October 2013 – fall

A blissful roll on my lap becomes a frantic scramble. Her body twists and turns, tail swishing. Inevitably, she hits the floor. Shaking her head, she begins to wash her paw self-consciously. Dignity must be upheld.

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14th October 2013 – dog

A beautiful, honey-brown coat, brushed to perfection. A high forehead, furrowed in a worried frown. He stands erect, paws perfectly spaced, back straight. His wagging tail belies the wrinkles on his brow. An accident of breed, not an indicator of … Continue reading

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29th July 2013 – stand off

The little grey dog stops, tail not moving, ears pricked. Opposite him is a tortoiseshell cat, sideways on, back arched. Neither moves a muscle. A stand off is in progress, but who will win?

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11th July 2013 – reflections

They move over the wall like water. A furry head turns and a tail starts flicking with excitement. Gone in a flash, the moment for chasing has passed.

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6th June 2013 – slow worms

Two males fight. One has the other by the tail. Living up to their name, they slowly wriggle and writhe. Through all this, the female lies, patiently waiting. A silvery-grey triangle, barely visible on the tarmac path.

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1st April 2013 – robin

Sitting boldly on the garden fence, his winter redbreast sways from side to side as he scans his territory. Looking for nearby predators, he doesn’t see her. She sits on the conservatory windowsill, hunched as if to pounce. The tip … Continue reading

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