I promised you a hawk based update and I am true to my word.
You may recall that Tallulah’s school has a problem with litter on the school field. This litter has led to an infestation of seagulls, which many of the girls are afraid of, and which the teachers are annoyed about because the seagulls crap on the teacher’s cars.
Tallulah came home from school a few months ago with what seemed like a preposterous tale, i.e. that the school were going to invest in a hawk that would swoop down from on high, scaring the seagulls away, and this would be problem solved.
I was highly sceptical of this, particularly given that she did not mention whether the hawk would then take up litter picking and remove all the rubbish, meaning the seagulls wouldn’t all just wait in a bush for the hawk to get bored and then get on with eating rubbish and shitting on vehicles.
I also wondered why they weren’t just making the girls pick up their own rubbish.
It was all very far fetched, and yet Tallulah’s friends have also sworn that the hawk story is not just the imaginings of a fertile teenage brain.
I confess that once the initial hawk based wonder had died down, I mostly forgot about the hawk until last week.
Tallulah came home from school, fizzing, positively fizzing with rage.
The hawk had landed.
I asked her how it went, at which she went off into a protracted rant which made me very proud and only confirmed that she and I are much more alike than either of us would care to mention.
Apparently the hawk man came, with the hawk in a box. He opened the box, at which time the hawk lazily flew up to the sport’s hall roof. There it perched, ignoring the seagulls with might and main until the man gave up trying to make it swoop down on the gulls. Instead he spent the next twenty minutes trying to lure the hawk back into its box. It was not having any of this until he tempted it down with gobbets of unspecified flesh.
Then he took his box of hawk and left, leaving the seagulls in complete charge of the playing field and rubbish still strewn around with gay abandon.
I suggested that next time they could spend school funds on a swan. Swans are bloody terrifying, and if I was a seagull I’d totally get out of the way of an angry swan. I know it would be angry because I’d make it wear a purple t-shirt that says ‘Clean for the Queen’ and send the photo to the newspaper for the added fame and notoriety.
Queen’s Swans Finally Make Themselves Useful Instead of Just Trying to Break Your Arm.