For the best part of the almost four years we have lived in this house, we have been regularly visited by a pair of blackbirds who seemed to be nesting in a box in our garden and considered this very much their patch. The male, we very quickly noticed, had a broken leg and we named him Peg-leg ("Peg" for short!)
Coming home after a few days away this Christmas, we soon realised that our little pet, Peg, was not visiting us any more; he had shown his displeasure at our occasional holidays away before, but had always come back after a few days. This time, he didn't ... plus, his mate was around and seemed to be slightly distressed, sitting in "their" tree and apparently looking for him. Here she is:
We've always called her The Sergeant, because of her one white tail feather that looks like a stripe (yes, we do know sergeants have three stripes, but we liked the name!). She now comes daily to the feeding station on her own, which she would never have done when Peg was around ... well, she tried, but he used to chase her off until he'd had his fill!!
We believe, therefore, that our dear little Peg - funny, stroppy, territorial and entertaining - has come to the end of his one-legged life. We like to think that taking care of him for so long extended his life and made it a bit more pleasant, and he gave us a lot of pleasure in return - almost clipping our ears as he darted close to us through the garden, "pipping" from his tree in the mornings to let us know he was hungry ... and his beautiful, glorious singing in the early evenings of summer.
So long, Peg ... we will miss you!
