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When I was a child there were three cats and a dog. I used to feed the food, that I didn't want, to the dog. In exchange, the dog took the heat, for the food that I did like to eat. When my Father asked what happened to the strawberries or the chocolate, I simply pointed at the dog.

I had a very strong relationship with my cats. To me they were friends. They couldn't talk back, so when ever I asked them questions, I'd always say the answers for them. The cats would share my bed and one cat in particular, shared my thoughts and dreams, right up until he died when I was about eleven years old.

In addition to our furry domesticated friends, we had a Rabbit, and a Guinea Pig. Not to mention the tortoise that turned up at our door step, every once in a while. Oh yes, there was about five or six gold fish.

My Father kept an assortment of exotic birds in an aviary in our very well lit and heated basement. In the house, there was a beautiful Cockateel, that tormented the cats, just by being there.

As well as our menagerie of assorted creatures in captivity; I was growing up in the surrounding countryside of little village community in England, and there was never a shortage of wild life! I remember the excitement I felt whenever I saw a Hedgehog or a wild rabbit, especially when I could see their new born babies. I always felt a strong connection with them, as they were part of a family, just like me.

I remember falling asleep at night, feeling happy that our birds and cats were safe. When ever it rained or there was a storm, I would feel unsettled and worry about the wild animals outside. My Mother always assured me that they were okay, as they too lived in their little homes and that their burrows and nests were just as comfortable and protected, just like ours.

Whenever I found an abandoned baby bird; Maybe I should have left it alone? But I was afraid of the cats getting a hold of it? So, I'd bring it into the house for nurturing. I loved to feed it and watch it grow.

I used to feel that the whole countryside was mine to share; I lived in a stone nest, borrow or Den, and theirs, were made of earth, twigs and leaves.

Looking back; I think that I could strongly identify myself with the pure innocence of nature. I felt that, as a child, all the animals were children too! Except they were never going to grow up in the way that I would.

Learn more about this author, Jon Coe.
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