Birds

Anyone who knows me well will know that I am terrified of birds. This phobia came about after a nasty incident in a chicken shed involving my red wellies and a particulary vicious cockrel.

Miss Penny, the kitten cat, it seems is not aware of the fact that birds in close proximity bring me out in a cold sweat and give me the most alarming palpitations. So when I got home from work last night there she sat, on the door mat, proudly displaying a very much alive baby sparrow.

Mr Jones is, AGAIN, living it up in Wigan so I had to summon every inch of resolve and bravery in my body to deal with the problem myself.

I had to quickly dispatch Miss Penny, who was about to demonstrate her position in the world order by biting off its head, and then with a dustpan and brush (held at arms length) I swept up the forlorn little thing and hastily deposited it into next door's ivy. I then spent the next half and hour breathlessly guarding the cat flap and attempting to engage Miss Penny in a fight with a toy mouse.

Had I not been back in boot camp I might have poured myself a stiff G&T to aid my recovery - but instead I made do with iced water.