He was getting too familiar, planting himself on the chair next to us without being asked. But it didn’t seem to bother her. If anything she was amused.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” I sneered.
But he just ignored me, fixing us with his stony stare, as if he were waiting for something and we were to provide it.
Then she went indoors and the inevitable happened.
He got up and followed.
“Hey!” I called out, “Hey!”
But he went in anyway, asserting his territory. Then pandemonium broke loose.
She panicked and he panicked, blindly bumping against doors and windows. Finally he found his way out through the open door.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I won’t feed Scruffy anymore.”
Scruffy was a big, beefy Murray magpie with a sense of entitlement.