Further to Humpty's seagull story the other day
The building in which I work has some areas of flat roof, and we frequently get seagulls nesting up there. A few years ago, one of the chicks, still in its fluffy grey not-able-to-fly stage tried to fly anyway, and failed miserably, ending up in the garden below.

It was unhurt, but it couldn't get back up on the roof again, so it spent the next three weeks wandering around the lawn, being attended to by its mum.

We named it George (think about it) and we used to watch every day as Mrs Gull came down and fed him his regurgitated fish or whatever the catch of the day was. But if anyone went near George when he was on the ground, his mum would swoop down and dive bomb the intruder.

Made for quite good viewing from our first floor office window!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 29 Apr 2008, 10:49, 2 replies)

george?
george...george....george....

Oh! That's terrible. You could also have called it Steven. But then it may have been lethal if approached.
(Bazongaloid, Tue 29 Apr 2008, 10:56, closed)

Did you want to
love him and hug him and squeeze him and call him George?
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Tue 29 Apr 2008, 13:08, closed)