We've been hearing funny noises lately. Out in the dark. Just outside the window, on the rough collection of stones we laughingly call a patio. Shuffles, bumps, that sort of thing. Then one evening there was a loud crash and we found the bird table had been knocked over. When Mr Kitsch opened the door he could hear rustling in the bushes. "It must be a cat," we said, not wanting to worry ourselves. "Or a fox.." There are a lot of urban foxes in Bristol.
Every now and then in the evenings, we'd hear something, but never saw anything. Mr Kitsch started to refer to it as "The Beast".
Then last night, I was reading in bed, while Mr Kitsch watched TV. He suddenly rushed upstairs to tell me The Beast was in the garden. It was a badger! I ran downstairs and looked out to see it happily rooting about on the lawn. Apparently, when Mr Kitsch first saw him he was energetically digging up one of my pots outside the patio door. Cheeky so-and-so! He wasn't the least disturbed by us or the light from the house, and wandered off in his own time.
So, another visitor to the garden. I'm thinking he might be called Bill - I can't think why...