Early this morning (about 11.35) I was awakened by an eager "tap-tap-tap" on the window pane. At first, I thought it was just the loose sash rattling in the wind, so I ignored it and attempted to get back to sleep. But the rattling became more insistent and so I put on my "tupwatch tartan" dressing gown and staggered to the window. As I flung open the curtains, I saw dear old Geoffrey's face, peering back at me. You can only imagine my joy.
"Why didn't you just use the door?" I asked.
"It was locked, and my key wouldn't work," said Geoffrey, looking rather hurt.
"Well, I haven't locked it. I NEVER lock it, " I replied, giving the door a good kick. "It must have swollen up with the damp weather, and jammed. Come in and sit down and have a glass of madeira. I'll fire some sausages under the grill as well."
"That sounds lovely, Tuppy. I'm pig sick of seaweed and fresh fish."
Mind you, I have to say he was looking well on it. His feathers were gleaming and his eyes were brighter and more inquisitive than ever. How great to have him back where he belongs, sitting across from me by the fireside at the Rocky Outcrop, our home. I can't wait to hear about his travels.
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