Getting up to turn the television on to watch the news, I noticed out of the corner of my eye our cat Trieste playing with something on the floor. Upon closer inspection I noticed a poor defenceless paralysed dragonfly clinging to a jumper of Leon’s lying on the floor.

Feeling sorry for it, I decided to try and rescue it: I picked it up and despite its struggling once it had awoken from its paralysis, I managed to successfully escort it outside. Once there, I opened my hands, only to watch the dragonfly plummet to the concrete paving, where it flailed around, failing to get off the ground. Disheartened, I decided to give it one more chance, so I picked it up again, and holding it over the garden where it could fall and die in peace if it once again didn’t manage to fly away, I opened my hands and saw the dragonfly triumphantly take off into the sky.

After about 1 second of feeling joyous for it, I watched as all its hopes and dreams for the future were tragically dashed - after flying about 5 metres, the dragonfly was summarily grabbed by a swooping Willie Wagtail. Alas.