…and I got my gatti and guddled that gat for all I was worth..
Then they started coming out of the bushes…
…and posing…
…and one gatti led to another..
…until..
…it was a veritable…
…gateaux of gattis.
He’s a fishing cat. Fishes for compliments.
They are *all* ridiculously cuddly. I heart Italian cats…
Yes, we’re broadening our interests.
Ducks, cross because they can’t cross…
Lucky duck, crossing, at a duck crossing.
One duck…
two duck…
three duck…
…It is very hard to get…
…all your ducks in a row.
Of course I diversified into swans.
S/he was so friendly…
…(ie, bribable, with foccacia).
No ducks were eaten…
…during the taking of these photographs.
Actually, watching them at play…
…like this guy, who bobbed around…
…like the happiest of sailors…
…I kind of started to like them.
And to see them as individuals, rather than recipes.
This mallard is one of the world’s great divers.
And this one was so friendly, she came up the steps…
So did this one.
…this was another fellow (lady?) who said hello. I find it hard to tell the gender of swans, and it seems rude to ask.
Ducks, swans and cats had occasional competition. These three did everything together, including barking and wagging.
The partridge…
And the mallard…
…and this fat fellow were all champion olive eaters.
These two were my favourite couples. This looked like a brand-new romance…
…but these two, out on their evening walk, had that we’ve-been-doing-this-for-a-long-time waddle old couples get.
This is not a duck, a mallard or a cat. It is just a picture of some bulrushes, but I had to end somewhere. Addio alle anatre, i cigni, i cani ei gatti.
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