“Sorry, Old Girl” said the Major, as his wife glared at him over the top of her reading glasses. It’s true though, he thought to himself. The seasonal covering of snow made them easier to spot, they stood out like sore thumbs. She was glad when it thawed but there was more on the way. The Major always loved snow on Christmas Day. On his short walk to the doctor’s surgery he had spotted three of them. They are taking over, can’t move a bloody inch without falling over one. Send them all back home where they belong. Can’t be doing with this he thought; they’ll be breeding like rabbits and taking over the country.
Boadicea's Chariot 
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