A ferret, a fox, a grey wagtail and two eels
Sometimes you have to take what you can get, savour what is around you. Sometimes you have to make do with a wall painting of a swarm of bees or a giant squirrel, a jackdaw or a pair of fox friends. Between 2010 and 2016, I made some short field notes about brief animal encounters in London. They seem to hold true to the idea that even the city’s grid-work can be full of exciting splashes of nature.
Shirley the ferret goes for a walk (July 2016)
I cycled past a man walking a ferret in Ion Square Gardens. He was very friendly and eager to talk when I asked him what was on the leash. He introduced me to a ferret called Shirley and quickly revealed she ate macaroni cheese and cat food, as well as McDonald’s, KFC and ice cream.
The man was with his mum who rode a mobility scooter. She told me that Shirley was an albino and these were more expensive than the normal ones in pet shops, even though they only lived for two years. Shirley cost £50. The man lifted her up by the leash and popped her in his shoulder bag. ‘There’s cat food inside’ he said, smiling.
Fierce fox (November 2014)
We see foxes all the time in Bethnal Green. You see them trotting between parked cars at night. Once on the way to drop Stella off at school there was one poking around on Jesus Green in the morning sunlight.
Then there was a closer encounter. On my way into Haggerston Park one morning my eyes met those of a sleek bronze beast coming around the corner. We stopped and stared in a moment of mutual surprise. Between the fox’s jaws was the front half of a squirrel, fresh with gore. He or she reversed gently away and turned tail. When I followed, my new acquaintance had already vanished into the undergrowth without a sound.
A grey wagtail on Hungerford bridge (January 2011)
We spotted it from the elevated pedestrian walkway as the trains were gliding in and out of Charing Cross station.
On an island pillar of sprouting shoots beneath us, the sulphur yellow of the wagtail’s breast flashed among old bottles and a wind-wrecked umbrella. The dainty bird quickly surveyed the graffiti and security railings and was gone.
Two eels for dinner (May 2010)
From the sun deck of the Tattershall Castle, moored on Victoria Embankment, we watched a lone black cormorant at work on the river. It paused on the surface and then dived into the murk. It was gone for a long time. How long would it stay under? Ages it seemed when it finally reappeared, but again and again it dived. Then suddenly it popped up with a writhing silver eel. Barely able to contain its catch, the bird expertly manoeuvred the fish and swallowed it down with a few strong gulps. We gasped!
A week or two later a fisherman on a pier near Stanford Wharf was waiting for the tide to go out a bit further when he caught an eel right in front of me. He said he would take it home for dinner. I knew little about eels so I looked them up and found that they had all but vanished from the Thames. I hoped I hadn’t seen the last two.
Eel update: several projects are working to restore the critically endangered population of European eels (Anguilla anguilla) in the Thames today. Eels are still stewed, jellied and served at pie and mash shops like F. Cooke, S. & R. Kelly and M. Manze, but these ones are now imported from Ireland or Holland.