Living things

I rose at dawn; Blogger and the cats were there, slavering, and I braved the ghastly whiff of tinned animal meat with gritted teeth.
The blackbird was in the garden, pottering about on the grass haphazardly. I noticed it was very old- its wing feathers were going grey.
I started to worry that Charlie might fancy a crunchy squirming bird for dessert so I opened the door and chased the blackbird into the bushes.
There's not a lot to do at dawn, so I woke the computer and started emailing.
Guess what!
A tiny, tiny spider lives in my laptop, in the warm bit near the hinges!
Isn't that sweet?