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Honorific Angels

I was a farm boy, Dicken with ragged trousers and muddy knees. I had a menagerie of animal accomplices my favourite being Stink the ferret, he could be relied on to bite my uncles, attaching himself to assorted fingers as if to delight me with his prowess in that field of endeavor. Clack the crow could shit on my friends whenever the fancy took him and my two homing pigeons flew home never to be seen again. Stink 2 was the runt of the litter and survived long enough to sink his teeth into the priests wellies along with the fleshy part of his leg, not recommended when pig heaven was only a few months away.  I often set off from home to make my way in the world with my motley crew only to be returned by Sergeant Rolfe an exasperated policeman whose job in this particular matter was in danger of becoming a permanent one. My mother told him not to bother next time but he always did, bastard. He never really took to being called storm trooper Rolfe for he was at pains to tell me that he had fought on the side of the British army in the war and would I kindly not refer to him in that way again, I always did. My favourite occupation when not running away from home was to head to the woods and watch creatures go about their daily tasks; Stink would often bring back a rabbit which I let him savage it for an hour or two as a reward, awful kid. I loved animals though and when Claude my rabbit was ripped in two by a fox I became better disposed toward the rabbit fraternity. Stink was also very popular on the school bus but not such a hit with the teachers, his finger biting skills being demonstrated with dexterity and efficiency toward this rather angry profession. I once won an award for an essay entitled ‘Ferrets a History’, I was then put forward for a writing competition organized by Cadbury’s but my essay ‘Cows Have Two Stomachs’ was not so well received.