Bert said to me about ten days ago,
Blackbirds and squirrels are getting into the strawberries.
What! Didn't I tell you to put netting over them?
Netting'll not stop the squirrels.
Wee bastards. Can you not you kill them?
Kill them? How'd I do that then?
Shoot them.
I'd look well shooting at squirrels in the strawberry patch.
Trap them then.
How?
Put sticky stuff down and their feet will stick to it.
And what do I do then?
Dash their brains out against a wall.
Humph! If you'd seen the wee young ones slippy-titting up the rows, grabbing themselves a big juicy strawb, running off, looking round to see if they're safe, then holding it between their wee front paws and getting stuck into it you'd think they were cute too.
Indeed I would not!
Many days later I emerged from the strawberry patch with another big bowl of fruit and said to Bert,
You know - there are enough strawberries for us and the pigs and the blackbirds and squirrels too.
I knew you'd come round to my way of thinking.
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