Lack of Gratitude and Rats

Exit the red bootee and re-enter YP. Started as it obviously means to go on by spitting through a hole in the fence. There's gratitude. Everything I did to help with the blue tits ignored, not a murmur of thanks, merely nasty looks. That's the last time I go out of my way (into its garden) to be neighbourly. The blue tits weren't much fun anyway. All they did was fly up and then sit in the wisteria.

Time of rats now 'tis autumn so will leave YP to its tiny pleasures. Only wish rats tasted better. I try time after time but it makes me sick. Did I mention my staggering skills at this? Maximum rib heaving and backing away so as not to tread in it. He does though when He comes down to make the morning tea.