Yesterday Bonnie & Clyde came chugging across the pond like steamboats and chased poor Buzz (who still cannot fly, for reasons unknown to me. Bella moulted and grew fabulous new flight feathers in record time. I think Buzz may have sustained internal injuries from Clyde’s pummeling, and if he is ever in need of medical attention, there is no one in the area interested in helping, I have sadly discovered. All this “Invasive Species” nonsense, Covid, people’s ignorance or lack of compassion, it all adds up to, “Sorry, we don’t treat Mute Swans anymore.” WTH?
So I stood on the bank and protected my sweet Buzz, waving a big stick (did I tell you how I was “spoken to” last time I tried protecting Buzz from Clyde, by the fellow who works for the “Innkeeper?” He said the swans didn’t need my help, but I guess they don’t need *his* either, because he just yammered at me and walked away (they “know” me, he stated. They may know him and not like him a whit, lolol. William had no tolerance for my husband, jealous, perhaps).
The largest of the male siblings in the brood, the alpha, always loves me special. Totally true for all William’s children and surprisingly, for Buzz’s as well. Here is my Leon, the largest not by a whole lot, but obvious. Love them all, of course, but this smitten devotion is priceless:
Buzz in his glory-winged not that long ago past: