One Foot When I first met this old boy, I feared the worst. One of his feet was hanging by a tendon, only two toes on the other foot and his belly feathers crusty claret with clotted blood. Despite his awful appearance and the immense pain he must have been in, he ate well and refused to be caught - a spirited creature for sure. He vanished for a few days and I assumed that was the last I'd see of him. So when he reappeared, with just one foot and a clean, but tender stump, One Foot was named. I worried about infection, but his wound healed and I quickly came to recognise the distinctive sound of his foot/stump patter/clomp on the shed roof. Always hungry, he kept his distance at first, aware he wasn't quite as agile as he once was. But as he gained confidence and we built trust, his character shone through. Cheeky as you like. Never shy about letting you know when his belly is rumbling, he soon adopted the 'window dance' - a kind of upright, flapping hover to say 'I'm here!' Easy to recognise, he's a known face around these parts now: he even pops down the road to visit my lovely God daughter for lunch and a bit of attention. Resilient, funny and full of charm, I adore my little One Foot. No matter how awful my day, an appearance from this chap is always welcome.