Category Archives: Uncategorized

Comments on a disturbing blog post I read recently.

I’ve just read a disturbing post from soulfultroubadourdotcom. It deals with the case of two boys who were badly beaten for wanting to leave the church. So badly beaten, in fact, that one of them died. I think most people would consider this a dreadful crime. Unfortunately, the people whod did this must have felt they were fully justified.

This is what’s scary. These people thought, and I suppose continue to think, they were fully justified in what they did. This did not happen in Syria, or Iraq, or Libya or any of those countries that we think of as being barbaric, but in the USA. These people were not extremist Muslims, but Fundamental Christians.

By what right they think they have to call themselves Christian I really do not know. Nothing they did is what I understand to be following the teachings of Christ. These extremist ‘Christians’ are just as bad as the extremist ‘Muslims’, and yet we in the west seem to ignore them.

OK, they don’t go round bombing people (yet), thinking you can force people into believing as you do, but are they really much better? Beating young men because they don’t like the message you are preaching is just as bad in my eyes.

Extremism is dangerous, whether it’s religious or political, whether Muslim of Christian, Right or Left. People ignore these folk because they call themselves Christian, and that is the religion of the west. Of us, even if we are non-believers.

So we tar all Muslims with the same brush. They are all wicked people who chop of the heads of non-Muslims, but we ignore those Christians who think to force people to their religion by other acts of brutality.

Jesus said (Matthew 7:5) How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ while there is still a beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! First take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

I have written a poem about hypocrisy. I’ll post it later next month, possibly.

 

I would love to hear what you think about this. If you would like more details, go to https://soulfultroubadourdotcom.wordpress.com/2016/10/

Would You Rather… Author Tag

I liked these questions. The answers aren’t mine though. I may just give my answers in another blog sometime.

2nd Halloween-Poem Contest

 

Here is a contest that sounds like fun. I’m definitely entering!

It is a great pleasure for me to announce the 2nd Halloween-Poem Contest on ‘Writer’s Treasure Chest’. ************************************************ Every author and …

Source: 2nd Halloween-Poem Contest

Whatever happened to the Bilberry?

moorland

 

I was remembering the bilberries I used to buy from the market in Rochdale, England in the early 70s and got a desire for a bilberry pie. Nowhere can I find anyone who sells them, except for Amazon who sell dried ones.

The little purple berries are about half the size of their cousin, the blueberry, but are packed with so much more flavour. There is nothing quite like it. Imagine a blueberry, then concentrate its flavour into a volume about one quarter its size, then double the flavour for good measure. You might then have a slight idea of the pleasure of eating bilberries.

They were made into pies, jams or stewed and served with ice cream or cream Mmmm, delicious. Their sweet tartness bursts on the tongue like nothing else. I’m sorry, my American friends, but the blueberry is NOT a substitute, but is bland, squishy and watery in comparison.

Now don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the occasional drink of blueberry juice or fresh blueberries in a fruit salad, it’s just when I think to compare them with the bilberry I feel disappointed. I’ve been searching websites for pictures of bilberries, but there is confusion here and all the ones I could find were actually of blueberries. Some even said they’re  the same fruit!

Why has this delicious little fruit fallen out of favour? Who knows. I suspect it’s something to do with the low-growing habit of the plant. Gathering bilberries is back-breaking work, and not one that many people would relish except for gathering a few wild ones for their own consumption.

They grow on heath and moorland. wild country where few go these days, when people don’t move more than 50 yards from their cars and think themselves adventurous for driving up into the hills and walking so far. So people don’t see these little beauties. Anyway, we have grown so far from nature that unless something comes in a neat package from a supermarket, many are afraid to gather the wild bounty of our hedgerows. (I don’t see many people gathering blackberries from the hedges or picking mushrooms from the fields these days.)

I’ve picked wild stuff since I was a child. Going mushrooming was a delight. we quickly learned to recognise a delicious field mushroom, and to eat them fresh for breakfast, with egg and bacon, well, it makes my mouth water just to think of them. They, like the bilberries, burst with lovely mushroomy flavour.

To make a pie with blackberries you’ve gathered yourself is a pleasure. To be out in the countryside, listening to the birds singing and watching the butterflies and bees–there’s nothing like it, quite apart from the health benefits of the walk.

I do see people gathering blackberries, but they are picking them from the roadside with lorries, cars and buses hurtling by and throwing up dust to coat them, Not to mention those lower down that I’ve seen people picking, just at dog pee level.

I’ve picked elderberries and made wine and jam from them, and the fluffy white umberellas of blossom also makes a lovely cordial as well as elderflower wine.

I’ve digressed from my original thought about bilberries. I long to eat another bilberry pie before I die, but they seem to be a forgotten fruit. Even Word is putting a red squiggly line underneath it everytime I write ‘bilerry’, but it doesn’t under ‘blueberry’.

Amazon’s dried bilberries, at nearly £11 for 250g seems rather a lot. and one of their products is called ‘blueberry juice (bilberry), which isn’t the same thing at all. The only review of the dried bilberries says they are horrible.

I’ve looked on the websites of all the major British supermarkets and none of them stock even jars of the fruit, even though I’ve come across websites that say they do.

So if anyone out there knows of somewhere I can get them, please let me know. I’ll be forever grateful.

Confusion.

I don’t know what’s going on here, but the post on entertainment for young people I scheduled to come out  Tuesday but it seems to have come out on the same day as the interview with Carthinal. Sorry about that!

An Interview with Carthinal

I managed to track down the famous mage, Carthinal, near the mage tower in Hambara. He kindly agreed for me to interview him. This is a transcript of that interview.IMG_2812

Me: Where were you born?
Carthinal:  In Bluehaven on the Middle Sea.

Me: What was you childhood like? Was it happy?
Carthinal:  At first it was very happy, but later, not so.

Me:  Please elaborate.
Carthinal:  My father was an elf from Rindissarillishon. He came to Bluehaven on a diplomatic mission. As you will know, Bluehaven is the port where people leave to go to Asperilla, the capital, on Holy Isle. My mother met him when my grandfather and family went to a banquet in honour of the guests. My grandfather was the president of  the Merchant’s guild. They fell in love, and despite opposition from my grandparents, due to the different life expectancy, they married.
Then they had me. We were well off and had a large house close to my mother’s parents. Both my parents doted on me, as did my grandparents too. My mother was an only child, you see, and since elves have few children they did not expect more.
I had a nanny but my mother was always there whenever she could be, as was my father. They took me out with them whenever possible too.

Me: It sounds ideal. What went wrong? You said  that later it was not so happy.
Carthinal: His face fell:  It was the War of Succession. Do you know about that?

Me: No.
Carthinal: Well. The sister of the elflord had had twin boys. The succession in the elves went to the eldest boy of the sister of the elflord, or nearest other female relative if he had no sister. When the Elflord died, both boys claimed the throne saying that he was the elder. A war broke out between them and my father insisted that he go to fight for the actual elder boy. My mother was upset, and tried to persuade him not to go, but he insisted he do his duty. It was the first time I ever heard them quarrel.

Me: What happened then?
Carthinal: My father was killed. Right at the very end it seems. I was very little and don’t remember much detail. My mother was distraught. She returned to her parents’ house and locked herself in her room. Eventually she killed herself. I was not told this, of course, but I deduced it when I got older.
Here he paused and looked into the distance before once more coming back to the present. I allowed him a few minutes to gather himself.

Me:  Did you continue to live with you grandparents?
Carthinal: Yes. They looked after me for the next few years then, but they were old and first my grandmother and then my grandfather died. I was still very young. They had left the house to me, and the money got from selling my parents’ house, and they arranged for my nanny to continue to look after me. She did her best, but she couldn’t replace those I had lost.

Me: I am sorry for your loss, Carthinal.
Carthinal:  Thank you. It would seem that in spite of everything I was still in a privileged position. I had money and a home, and people to look after me, but those people cheated me.
He beat his fist onto the table and an angry look clouded his indigo eyes.

Me: Please continue.
Carthinal: Somehow the steward and the lawyers managed to gain my property and money. They then turned me out into the street. I was only a little kid, about ten years old. I didn’t know what to do. I wandered about, slept in doorways and stole to eat. One day a girl came up to me and took me to a person she called the leader of her gang. He would not be happy with me stealing on his patch, she told me, and so I joined the gang.
I am not proud of that time of my life. I fought other gangs, stole and maybe even killed during those fights, I don’t know, but it was do that or die. The gangs were ruthless. I even became the leader eventually, and may have ended up on the hangman’s rope.

Me: What changed it?
Carthinal: It was a travelling magician. I now know that he was only very low level, probably a failed apprentice, but to me he was wonderful. I watched him time and time again and began to copy his words and actions when I was alone. One day an archmage called Mabryl saw me. I’d just managed to bring a little flame on my finger; a feat most unusual for one untrained. Mabryl approached me and I thought he was going to arrest me. He asked me to come to his house. I’m afraid that I swore and spat at him. He approached me several times to no avail, then told me that his door was always open for when I decided to learn magic properly.

Me: How long did that take?
Carthinal: Several months. I approached a number of times but lost my nerve, but when I did, Mabryl welcomed me with open arms.

Me: Why did you eventually take up his offer?
Carthinal: I thought that magic would give me more power in the gangs. Perhaps I could become the overall leader of the thieves, but Mabryl changed that. I was difficult. Wild and undisciplined. I gave him a lot of trouble, but he was patient and persevered and eventually I became what he wanted and, as they say, the rest is history.

The first 2 books of The Wolves of Vimar about Carthinal and his friends can be bought in kindle and print format from http://www.amazon.com or http://www.amazon.co.uk Interview with Carthinal

Me: Where were you born?
Carthinal:  In Bluehaven on the Middle Sea.

Me: What was you childhood like? Was it happy?
Carthinal:  At first it was very happy, but later, not so.

Me:  Please elaborate.
Carthinal:  My father was an elf from Rindissarillishon. He came to Bluehaven on a diplomatic mission. As you will know, Bluehaven is the port where people leave to go to Asperilla, the capital, on Holy Isle. My mother met him when my grandfather and family went to a banquet in honour of the guests. My grandfather was the president of  the Merchant’s guild. They fell in love, and despite opposition from my grandparents, due to the different life expectancy, they married.
Then they had me. We were well off and had a large house close to my mother’s parents. Both my parents doted on me, as did my grandparents too. My mother was an only child, you see, and since elves have few children they did not expect more.
I had a nanny but my mother was always there whenever she could be, as was my father. They took me out with them whenever possible too.

Me: It sounds ideal. What went wrong? You said  that later it was not so happy.
Carthinal: His face fell:  It was the War of Succession. Do you know about that?

Me: No.
Carthinal: Well. The sister of the elflord had had twin boys. The succession in the elves went to the eldest boy of the sister of the elflord, or nearest other female relative if he had no sister. When the Elflord died, both boys claimed the throne saying that he was the elder. A war broke out between them and my father insisted that he go to fight for the actual elder boy. My mother was upset, and tried to persuade him not to go, but he insisted he do his duty. It was the first time I ever heard them quarrel.

Me: What happened then?
Carthinal: My father was killed. Right at the very end it seems. I was very little and don’t remember much detail. My mother was distraught. She returned to her parents’ house and locked herself in her room. Eventually she killed herself. I was not told this, of course, but I deduced it when I got older.
Here he paused and looked into the distance before once more coming back to the present. I allowed him a few minutes to gather himself.

Me:  Did you continue to live with you grandparents?
Carthinal: Yes. They looked after me for the next few years then, but they were old and first my grandmother and then my grandfather died. I was still very young. They had left the house to me, and the money got from selling my parents’ house, and they arranged for my nanny to continue to look after me. She did her best, but she couldn’t replace those I had lost.

Me: I am sorry for your loss, Carthinal.
Carthinal:  Thank you. It would seem that in spite of everything I was still in a privileged position. I had money and a home, and people to look after me, but those people cheated me.
He beat his fist onto the table and an angry look clouded his indigo eyes.

Me: Please continue.
Carthinal: Somehow the steward and the lawyers managed to gain my property and money. They then turned me out into the street. I was only a little kid, about ten years old. I didn’t know what to do. I wandered about, slept in doorways and stole to eat. One day a girl came up to me and took me to a person she called the leader of her gang. He would not be happy with me stealing on his patch, she told me, and so I joined the gang.
I am not proud of that time of my life. I fought other gangs, stole and maybe even killed during those fights, I don’t know, but it was do that or die. The gangs were ruthless. I even became the leader eventually, and may have ended up on the hangman’s rope.

Me: What changed it?
Carthinal: It was a travelling magician. I now know that he was only very low level, probably a failed apprentice, but to me he was wonderful. I watched him time and time again and began to copy his words and actions when I was alone. One day an archmage called Mabryl saw me. I’d just managed to bring a little flame on my finger; a feat most unusual for one untrained. Mabryl approached me and I thought he was going to arrest me. He asked me to come to his house. I’m afraid that I swore and spat at him. He approached me several times to no avail, then told me that his door was always open for when I decided to learn magic properly.

Me: How long did that take?
Carthinal: Several months. I approached a number of times but lost my nerve, but when I did, Mabryl welcomed me with open arms.

Me: Why did you eventually take up his offer?
Carthinal: I thought that magic would give me more power in the gangs. Perhaps I could become the overall leader of the thieves, but Mabryl changed that. I was difficult. Wild and undisciplined. I gave him a lot of trouble, but he was patient and persevered and eventually I became what he wanted and, as they say, the rest is history.

The first 2 books of The Wolves of Vimar about Carthinal and his friends can be bought in kindle and print format from http://www.amazon.com or http://www.amazon.co.uk Interview with Carthinal

Me: Where were you born?
Carthinal:  In Bluehaven on the Middle Sea.

Me: What was you childhood like? Was it happy?
Carthinal:  At first it was very happy, but later, not so.

Me:  Please elaborate.
Carthinal:  My father was an elf from Rindissarillishon. He came to Bluehaven on a diplomatic mission. As you will know, Bluehaven is the port where people leave to go to Asperilla, the capital, on Holy Isle. My mother met him when my grandfather and family went to a banquet in honour of the guests. My grandfather was the president of  the Merchant’s guild. They fell in love, and despite opposition from my grandparents, due to the different life expectancy, they married.
Then they had me. We were well off and had a large house close to my mother’s parents. Both my parents doted on me, as did my grandparents too. My mother was an only child, you see, and since elves have few children they did not expect more.
I had a nanny but my mother was always there whenever she could be, as was my father. They took me out with them whenever possible too.

Me: It sounds ideal. What went wrong? You said  that later it was not so happy.
Carthinal: His face fell:  It was the War of Succession. Do you know about that?

Me: No.
Carthinal: Well. The sister of the elflord had had twin boys. The succession in the elves went to the eldest boy of the sister of the elflord, or nearest other female relative if he had no sister. When the Elflord died, both boys claimed the throne saying that he was the elder. A war broke out between them and my father insisted that he go to fight for the actual elder boy. My mother was upset, and tried to persuade him not to go, but he insisted he do his duty. It was the first time I ever heard them quarrel.

Me: What happened then?
Carthinal: My father was killed. Right at the very end it seems. I was very little and don’t remember much detail. My mother was distraught. She returned to her parents’ house and locked herself in her room. Eventually she killed herself. I was not told this, of course, but I deduced it when I got older.
Here he paused and looked into the distance before once more coming back to the present. I allowed him a few minutes to gather himself.

Me:  Did you continue to live with you grandparents?
Carthinal: Yes. They looked after me for the next few years then, but they were old and first my grandmother and then my grandfather died. I was still very young. They had left the house to me, and the money got from selling my parents’ house, and they arranged for my nanny to continue to look after me. She did her best, but she couldn’t replace those I had lost.

Me: I am sorry for your loss, Carthinal.
Carthinal:  Thank you. It would seem that in spite of everything I was still in a privileged position. I had money and a home, and people to look after me, but those people cheated me.
He beat his fist onto the table and an angry look clouded his indigo eyes.

Me: Please continue.
Carthinal: Somehow the steward and the lawyers managed to gain my property and money. They then turned me out into the street. I was only a little kid, about ten years old. I didn’t know what to do. I wandered about, slept in doorways and stole to eat. One day a girl came up to me and took me to a person she called the leader of her gang. He would not be happy with me stealing on his patch, she told me, and so I joined the gang.
I am not proud of that time of my life. I fought other gangs, stole and maybe even killed during those fights, I don’t know, but it was do that or die. The gangs were ruthless. I even became the leader eventually, and may have ended up on the hangman’s rope.

Me: What changed it?
Carthinal: It was a travelling magician. I now know that he was only very low level, probably a failed apprentice, but to me he was wonderful. I watched him time and time again and began to copy his words and actions when I was alone. One day an archmage called Mabryl saw me. I’d just managed to bring a little flame on my finger; a feat most unusual for one untrained. Mabryl approached me and I thought he was going to arrest me. He asked me to come to his house. I’m afraid that I swore and spat at him. He approached me several times to no avail, then told me that his door was always open for when I decided to learn magic properly.

Me: How long did that take?
Carthinal: Several months. I approached a number of times but lost my nerve, but when I did, Mabryl welcomed me with open arms.

Me: Why did you eventually take up his offer?
Carthinal: I thought that magic would give me more power in the gangs. Perhaps I could become the overall leader of the thieves, but Mabryl changed that. I was difficult. Wild and undisciplined. I gave him a lot of trouble, but he was patient and persevered and eventually I became what he wanted and, as they say, the rest is history.

The first 2 books of The Wolves of Vimar about Carthinal and his friends can be bought in kindle and print format from http://www.amazon.com or http://www.amazon.co.uk

Interview with Carthinal

Me: Where were you born?
Carthinal: In Bluehaven on the Middle Sea.

Me: What was you childhood like? Was it happy?
Carthinal: At first it was very happy, but later, not so.

Me: Please elaborate.
Carthinal: My father was an elf from Rindissarillishon. He came to Bluehaven on a diplomatic mission. As you will know, Bluehaven is the port where people leave to go to Asperilla, the capital, on Holy Isle. My mother met him when my grandfather and family went to a banquet in honour of the guests. My grandfather was the president of the Merchant’s guild. They fell in love, and despite opposition from my grandparents, due to the different life expectancy, they married.
Then they had me. We were well off and had a large house close to my mother’s parents. Both my parents doted on me, as did my grandparents too. My mother was an only child, you see, and since elves have few children they did not expect more.
I had a nanny but my mother was always there whenever she could be, as was my father. They took me out with them whenever possible too.

Me: It sounds ideal. What went wrong? You said that later it was not so happy.
Carthinal: His face fell: It was the War of Succession. Do you know about that?

Me: No.
Carthinal: Well. The sister of the elflord had had twin boys. The succession in the elves went to the eldest boy of the sister of the elflord, or nearest other female relative if he had no sister. When the Elflord died, both boys claimed the throne saying that he was the elder. A war broke out between them and my father insisted that he go to fight for the actual elder boy. My mother was upset, and tried to persuade him not to go, but he insisted he do his duty. It was the first time I ever heard them quarrel.

Me: What happened then?
Carthinal: My father was killed. Right at the very end it seems. I was very little and don’t remember much detail. My mother was distraught. She returned to her parents’ house and locked herself in her room. Eventually she killed herself. I was not told this, of course, but I deduced it when I got older.
Here he paused and looked into the distance before once more coming back to the present. I allowed him a few minutes to gather himself.

Me: Did you continue to live with you grandparents?
Carthinal: Yes. They looked after me for the next few years then, but they were old and first my grandmother and then my grandfather died. I was still very young. They had left the house to me, and the money got from selling my parents’ house, and they arranged for my nanny to continue to look after me. She did her best, but she couldn’t replace those I had lost.

Me: I am sorry for your loss, Carthinal.
Carthinal: Thank you. It would seem that in spite of everything I was still in a privileged position. I had money and a home, and people to look after me, but those people cheated me.
He beat his fist onto the table and an angry look clouded his indigo eyes.

Me: Please continue.
Carthinal: Somehow the steward and the lawyers managed to gain my property and money. They then turned me out into the street. I was only a little kid, about ten years old. I didn’t know what to do. I wandered about, slept in doorways and stole to eat. One day a girl came up to me and took me to a person she called the leader of her gang. He would not be happy with me stealing on his patch, she told me, and so I joined the gang.
I am not proud of that time of my life. I fought other gangs, stole and maybe even killed during those fights, I don’t know, but it was do that or die. The gangs were ruthless. I even became the leader eventually, and may have ended up on the hangman’s rope.

Me: What changed it?
Carthinal: It was a travelling magician. I now know that he was only very low level, probably a failed apprentice, but to me he was wonderful. I watched him time and time again and began to copy his words and actions when I was alone. One day an archmage called Mabryl saw me. I’d just managed to bring a little flame on my finger; a feat most unusual for one untrained. Mabryl approached me and I thought he was going to arrest me. He asked me to come to his house. I’m afraid that I swore and spat at him. He approached me several times to no avail, then told me that his door was always open for when I decided to learn magic properly.

Me: How long did that take?
Carthinal: Several months. I approached a number of times but lost my nerve, but when I did, Mabryl welcomed me with open arms.

Me: Why did you eventually take up his offer?
Carthinal: I thought that magic would give me more power in the gangs. Perhaps I could become the overall leader of the thieves, but Mabryl changed that. I was difficult. Wild and undisciplined. I gave him a lot of trouble, but he was patient and persevered and eventually I became what he wanted and, as they say, the rest is history.

The first 2 books of The Wolves of Vimar about Carthinal and his friends can be bought in kindle and print format from http://www.amazon.com or http://www.amazon.co.uk

 

CHECK YOUR FACTS! A Warning for Authors

A warning for all authors.

Madison Chase Books's avatarMelissa A. Graham

I don’t normally do this sort of thing, but hopeful (and sometimes desperate) authors should be warned when there is someone out there that will try to take advantage of them or promise them things that they don’t deliver. There are enough scams and half-assers out there, but when someone can stop someone else from making a big mistake, this is exactly what should be done.

I want to talk to you about seriousreading.com and the bullshit I just dealt with. Maybe, once you see for yourselves what it is they *actually* deliver, you can avoid making the DUMB mistake I did.

On Feburary 19, I came across a suggested post on FB. I wish I had taken a screenshot of it so I could relay their pitch word-for-word, but you will just have to go onto their FB and read for yourself because they have blocked me. Basically, it…

View original post 1,307 more words

Can Animals Talk?

088CHARLIE1

What is talking?
Talking is using words in order to express a meaning.
What is a word?
A word is a sound, or combination of sounds assigned to a particular thing.

Having set that out I will state that in my opinion, animals can and do talk. Just because they do not talk in such a complicated way as we do does not mean they

111rollo1

are not talking.

Take birds, for example. Birds sing. Some birds have songs that are beautifully melodic and musical. Take the British robin for example. He isn’t just singing because at last winter is over and it’s a nice sunny day, so he feels happy. No, he’s saying to all other male blackbirds ‘I’m here and this is my patch, so stay away.’
At the same time, he’s advertising to all female robins that he is a good catch.

Songbirds emit up to 20 different sounds that tell of fear, hunger or alarm an

d warnings to fledgelings. (The Free Dictionary.com)

OK, so perhaps that is communicating and not talking. After all, we communicate an awful lot without saying a word085bird1, so let’s look a little deeper.

Anyone who had a cat or a dog can usually catch on pretty quickly what their various sounds mean. One meow for ‘I’m hungry’, and a different one for ‘Let me out, I need a pee.’ If your cat always makes the same sound for the same thing, is that not what a word is?

I have no idea what all the sounds made by Herring gulls mean, but they have such a wide variety that I would like to find out if they use them for particular things. I do know that young herring gulls make a little squeaking noise to beg for food from their parents. Is this a ‘word’ meaning ‘food’ or ‘I’m hungry’? It’s not used at any other time as far as I am aware.

What made me thiwolf1nk of this was something I was reading in a book called ‘Proust and the Squid’ about how we learn to read. It told of monkeys that when danger was spotted, used a particular call for a leopard and a different one for an eagle, the two main predators. They had also combined the two to mean ‘get out of here fast.’
If the sounds are made exclusively for those things, and as I read it, they are, then are they not ‘words’?

An article in ‘Dr Goodword’s Office’ on ‘Can Chimpanzees Speak’ (Alphadictionary.com) decides they cannot. It states that chimpanzees that learned to sign cannot form complex sentences. they would say ‘Give John Banana’ or, ‘Car hit man.’ The writer states that these are not truly speech because there are no morphemes (-ing, -ed, at, I, she etc). I hesitate to disagree with the writer, but I am going to anyway. The chimpanzee is communicating its desires or information using, in this case, signs and not sounds, but I would say it’s talking.
Just because an animal can’t make the same sounds that we do, does that mean it can’t talk? That would be like saying the French can’t talk because they don’t use the same sounds that we do for specific things. (‘chien’ for ‘dog’, ‘livre’ for ‘book’.)

OK, I’ll admit that animals can’t hold conversations in the way we understand them, nor express complex ideas, but they do talk to each other using ‘words’ and we are being rather superior in thinking they can’t talk. Dr Goodword’s Office seems to have the definition of speech as a rather complex achievement, involving sentence structure and all parts of speech.

Your cat ‘tells’ you what she wants by her meow. The pygmy sloth ‘tells’ all around he’s feeling randy by a particular call. (I heard that one on the Radio 4 the other day.) The young herring gull ‘tells’ its parent it wants food by squeaking. If these sounds are used specifically for that particular thing, then it fits the definition I made above of what a word is.

I think it all depends on your definition of talking, and there may be a difference in speech and talk. Perhaps animals can talk, but what they say is not speech.

My conclusion? Animals can talk (but your cat will never make a speech).