Some Walruses

Those curlews sure are hooked up. They brought me news from all over, such a palaver that I can barely clear my head of it - they seem to speak as a choir rather than as a single voice, and there are layers and layers and layers of information there. I was able to pick out this thread after thinking about it quietly for a while. Robbie rubbed me up from the tide line with his nose and put me in a glass of salt water - or a plastic of salt water, I should say, that he found on the beach. He then brought me up to the house in seashell and dumped me in there. The water is getting a bit cloudy, but I am grateful for the rest from all the scrapes and bruises. It's very rough and windy out there again today, with fresh water falling from the sky at a great rate. . . how I hate that! My eye is gradually getting better, too. I am growing a new one. I suggested to Robbie he grow a new arse since he is still having difficulty with his, but he just growled in a surly lairdish kind of way. The curlews, getting back to them, were going on about these walruses in the Chukchi Sea, how they are dying in the thousands of overcrowding. (Apparently curlews like to talk about world events, it's part of their flock behavior.) When Robbie stops dragging his bum around the carpet I'll get him to make a link for this event. We are alone here in the commander's house, a Boy comes in twice a day to walk Robbie and to check on the house. There are no other people around, so maybe we'll get a lot done while I grow an eye back. Being blind has made me listen intently, though, to the curlews and what they are saying, so that was a good thing - a new source of information. No word about the salmons in the Irish Sea yet. On a personal note, Robbie has a girlfriend. She showed him how to pick up a glass, or plastic, and to hill it full of water for me. She is very smart, a "poodle," chocolate brown. She likes to carry around a crab shell all the time, with a mite in it of some kind, a little tiny whisperer that lives in sand and, maybe wood, I think, although I am not sure, and water. Apparently he (or she?) travels far. H/she spoke of someplace called Gyre. I had some trouble making this out, it's voice is so tiny but it sounded quite civil. A kind of sea cricket, is how the poodle described it. In any event, they have become friends and perhaps we will be hearing more from the mite.