Visitor at the Launderette

The last time I went to the launderette, I was rather glad Islay lagged behind me on the way up the hill. Huddled in a corner by the big washing machines was a fledgeling jackdaw. Islay + thing with feathers usually = very dead bird, very quickly. Before she ambled in, though, I was able to scoop the young jackdaw up. It was young enough and daft enough not to be too scared of me, so it only flapped about a bit, and was quite easy to handle. With Islay looking on with interest, I went outside and put it through the railings of the chapel graveyard next door, which is elevated rather higher than Islay's nose. It hopped away into the undergrowth.