Jane Alyson Clarke

Having accepted the fact that my cat allergy rules out cats, my variable energy rules out dogs, and I am already the Chief Provider of Bath for the local pigeons, I have resigned myself to plants.

There are two families of pigeon fanciers in my local area and an energetic fellow who keeps hawks. He hasn’t said why he keeps them and I haven’t asked, but the rules about raptors are strict in Britain, so he’s flying them somewhere. In between reconnaissance flights and finger biting, they get an odd sojourn in the garden, where they stare with unblinking gormlessness at anything that moves.

While we mourn the late Mrs Palm (a Kentia palm), Five Lovely Daughters remains alive and well, and has been joined by Her Malevolence, a prolific silver inch plant. Her Malevolence appears to be as indestructible as her parent, who has taken over the entirety of a friend’s tea trolley.

Until such time as the pigeons resume their post-bath naps, my pet photos will be limited to: