When I came home from work there was a crowd of people outside my front door. There was a woman holding a seagull chick that had fallen down from the nest on the chimney pots. The chick was in the big fat gormless stage where the parents are fed up of feeding it, but it’s not ready to fly yet. There was really no way of putting it back up on the chimney pot, so I let the woman in and put the bird on the piece of flat roof that projects out of the window on our landing, safely out of the way of cats and foxes. In case he was going to hang around a while, I named the bird Spot, after his feathers.
Young Spot sat there looking gormless whilst his mother flapped about the roof squawking. After a while a rough looking seagull with dirty feathers came and started bullying the baby, pecking him and shoving him, and finally picking him up by the neck. The mother then noticed where her chick was and came and fought the rough gull and drove him away. She then fussed over the chick and nudged him until he started cleaning himself and came back with some food. Now young Spot is gone from the flat roof, so either he plopped down into the garden, in which case we can expect to be attacked every time we go into the garden, or else he’s returned to the chimney somehow. I don’t suspect foul play, there are no loose feathers or bloodspots on the flat roof. Seagull drama!