Dear me...

Dear me I have been lax haven't I? Been a bit crazy here what with organising various bits and bobs and as always, pesky work getting in the way!

Today, I'm slightly perturbed to read of an angler catching a bluefin tuna. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the bluefin tuna critically endangered and haven't we been working to protect it? It's one thing for him to catch it and have a snap taken before putting it back, but to let it die is, frankly, brutal.

I have a lot of time for Australians and New Zealanders, they care deeply about conservation and their natural resources. So it makes me very sad to see one stupid bloke pulling a beautiful creature (who's probably at least 15 years old) from the sea, just so he can boast about it to his friends. To make matters worse, it's not even going to get eaten - it's illegal for him to sell the meat as his boat wasn't registered, so he's going to mount it on his wall. Another death in vain.

If the world record group have any common sense, they won't recognise the award as it'll only encourage further slaughter of an endangered animal.

Are there different laws if it's a sports fishing tournament? As it's a 'sport' is it exempt from any rules or regulations governing the capture and killing of endangered animals? In which case, while we're at it, let's legalise bear baiting and go and shoot a few tigers for a nice rug, shall we?

This is what you should do with a tuna - put it back!

New Jordans ad...

Now I'm not one to watch television. Far too much reality tv rubbish and brain dead idiots for my liking. But after turning it on briefly today to watch a Vicar of Dibley episode, I can confidently say that this advert from Jordans is possibly the best for a few years... We'll even excuse them for their lack of an apostrophe in their brand name.

How cool is it? I'm particularly fond of it because I've worked with harvest mice in the past (amazing little critters, the babies are about the size of Maltesers) as well as hedgehogs and barn owls! We also currently have the WORLD'S biggest garden spider hibernating on our "balcony". Well, I say balcony, but it is actually a ledge that's big enough to put your toes on. But live the dream!

If more companies made a bit of an effort to grow and produce their products in harmony with nature, I'm sure the world would be a better place. If all meat and egg products were free range and all fish was caught sustainably with respect to the animal (yes, fish do feel pain, regardless of what anyone says) I'd certainly feel far happier and I'm sure most other people would too.

So come on, let's hear it for Jordans and start shopping sustainably!

Saying goodbye...

Today we said goodbye to little Daisy rat. It never gets any easier does it? In this case, the poor girl had a mammary tumour and was not enjoying life any more. It was time to let her go.

Every time this happens I tell myself that: "No. No more animals. This is too hard." But soon the sadness fades and you start to remember how many times they made you laugh and made you smile. Without animals in my life, getting in the way, tickling me with their whiskers and creating god-awful smells, I would soon become so depressed. I can only hope that they enjoy my company as much as I love theirs.

Loving an animal is different to loving a child. If you choose to have children, there is an automatic bond. You're programmed to love them and they love you. But with an animal, you must spend time earning their trust and respect. With time, I believe they show you genuine affection. Our rats spring to the front of the cage when we get home from work and are always pleased to see us (which is more than you can say for some people!). Many people claim that animals can't possibly feel love, but this is rubbish. How many stories do we hear of dogs waiting by their dead master's grave, or pets refusing to eat once their owner has gone? Even our bearded dragon, Sid, throws a massive strop if he doesn't get enough attention and lodges himself in his tunnel with his back to us. If he could stick his bottom lip out, he would.

So today, we've had a drink to Daisy. The rat which will always be remembered for the best impression of a Moray eel. As soon as something tasty came within two inches of her nose she'd launch herself at it and hang on with all the grim tenacity of a bull terrier. Her sister, Luna, lives on and we all know that Daisy is in ratty heaven, having a fabulous time with all our past creatures (and probably launching herself at passing fingers that happen to smell of something tasty).

So, remember all your past pets. And as long as you can look back and smile, it's ALWAYS got to be worth it.

When the pinkies were away...

Sid let out a moan: "Oooooh Christ. What did I drink last night?" He picked the remains of a dead locust off his tongue and blinked as he tried to remember what had happened. He couldn't quite explain why he was wearing a saddle. Nor could he understand why Colin, the pufferfish, was sitting with his back to him in the tank across the room. He was in a strop about something.

His hangover was soon interrupted by a fast-moving blur of champagne-coloured fur. He was bowled backwards across his tank and found himself face down in his water dish with a small fuzzy creature jumping up and down on his head. Not helpful with a hangover.

"Luna!" He groaned. "What the hell's the matter with you?!"

The champagne-coloured rat blinked her red eyes a couple of times. They were naturally red, but their rosy hue was emphasised somewhat by the vast quantities of Haribo she'd been consuming the night before. She never coped well on a sugar comedown.

"They're BACK - they weren't meant to be home until the afternoon, but they're back NOW!" she squeaked.

Sid shuffled his way out of his tank and peered out of the window. Sure enough, that massive, hairy, pink blob was slamming the door of the blue tin can they travelled round in. The little frizzy one was jabbering about something next to him.

"Oh no! We have a code red situation! Everybody, action stations!" Sid yelled.

Colin humphed. Then farted. He was never particularly helpful in these circumstances. He was always happy to eat and drink everyone else's stash but never wanted to help with the cleanup.

With Sid acting as lookout (while desperately trying to shrug himself out of the mysterious saddle), Luna jumped on the heads of her four sisters, who were all dotted around the flat in most unladylike positions. She tried to get the mini puffers (Pig Pig and Sprout) to help, but they just swam against the sides of the tank looking goggle-eyed. "Bloody fish," she muttered under her breath. Puffers are not heavy on brain and are even worse when they've been overdosing on fish flake.

Luna quickly got Beattie to eat the remains of the cream cake that was plastered across the floor, "Make sure you lick up every last crumb! We can't let them know what we're capable of!"

Daisy used her tail to push the last few Haribo under the fridge, "They'll never know," she mumbled, "They never clean under there."

Colin farted again.

Wynnie and Moose, the biggest girls, used their digging noses to push six beer cans into the bin.

"Quickly!" Sid yelled. "They're coming up the stairs! And will someone help me out of this damn saddle?"

Luna ran to Sid, undid the buckles with a flick of her tail then careered across the room to the cage. "Everyone in?" she whispered. The other four toots nodded and then curled up innocently in various positions, being sure that they looked as cute as possible. Luna closed the door quietly behind her.

Sid scrabbled into his cage and pushed the sliding door across, just as the key turned in the lock. The anemones in the marine tank started waving their arms provocatively and the shrimps started dancing. Hopefully this display would distract the pinkies from the piece of pizza wedged on the ceiling.

The pinkies walked in. "Look at them!" said the big hairy one.

"So cute," replied the small, frizzy one, "it's like butter wouldn't melt. Have you missed us?"

"We've got a treat for you," said the big hairy one, as he pushed some clotted cream fudge in through the door of the rat cage.

Luna burped and took it. Then, so she wouldn't hurt their feelings, she hid it in the rat house. Maybe she'd eat it later. Right now, she just needed eight hours sleep and a couple of Anadin....

The perils of photographing animals...

Who here loves their pets? Yay! So do I! With a tiny flat rapidly approaching zoo proportions (containing five rats, three puffer fish, a bearded dragon and a marine tank... oh and two pinkies, also known as people), you would think there would be ample photographic opportunities.

You would be wrong.

Toots (aka rats) are incredibly sweet little critters. Awww, look at these two? Sweet aren't they?

Yes they are sweet until they realise they're being photographed! At this point, you end up with a critter that is less gorgeous and more Gollum...

Of course, you might think that this strange affliction is restricted to one little toot (the lovely specimen pictured above is Wynnie, with a rather prettier looking Moose). 

However, it would appear not, for after struggling with the new and swanky camera a few days later, I set up the shot beautifully to get a snap of Beattie and ended up with this:

So I have come away with a whole new respect for wildlife photographers. I can't even get a good pic in the controlled environment of my own home with a domestic animal. Goodness knows what would happen if I attempted to snap a lion pursuing gazelle across the Serengeti!

Concerning orcas...

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate orcas for their skills as epic hunters, their problem-solving abilities and their behaviour.

But why oh why is the BBC so obsessed with them? Every single remotely watery nature documentary has to contain orcas. In fact, I'd bet that they get more air time than any other creature. And EVERY single time we have to watch them ruthlessly pursue a hapless seal/whale. This is, of course, what they do. But why must it always be this particular behaviour that we see? Why can't we watch calves being born, or playing, or courtship behaviour perhaps?

With the money that gets quite rightly poured into nature documentaries, you'd think they could shake things up a bit. How many times have we seen the same bit of footage of the grey whale calf being separated from its mother by orcas and killed, for them to only eat its tongue?

I've been watching and enjoying the Frozen Planet series currently running on the BBC, but every single episode keeps churning out films of orcas killing stuff. Come on BBC, let's see something different!

The Sid

Here is Sid, the seven-year-old bearded dragon!

He's a gorgeous critter! He had two hoppers today so is looking suitably pleased with himself. Beardies rock! Stupidly he's never been that keen on crickets and is a bit too daft to chase live hoppers (ends up falling off his rocks and logs) but has suddenly taken to dead, frozen hoppers (defrosted before feeding, of course!). He loves them and chases them about. Bad ole Sid!

Any lizardy tales out there?