Can A Swan Be Arrested For Jay Walking?

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which made Basil McCrea jettison the junket to San Diego and join the Bogside branch of the Legion of Mary on their annual trip to Knock.
"I have seen the error of my ways!" cried Basil, as he waved a giant flag of Saint Emmanuel, the patron saint of people who refuse to go on junkets.
As soon as the great show was over, Tommy my cat, shivering all over like a nude seal, grabbed me by my Greek orthodox church cassock and yelled,
"There's a swan on the road! There's a swan on the road!"
"Just ignore it and it will go away!" I replied. "It's just showing off." Tommy calmed down, downed a litre of vodka and said in a much milder tone,
"I wonder if Chief Constable Matt Baggot would arrest a swan for jay waking?"
"NEVER!" I cried. "Matt Baggott's love of the swan is legendary. Matt Baggot loses all control when a swan appears in his line of vision. Matt Baggott would give up his life for a swan. Matt Baggott sleeps under a duvet cover embroidered with cute, little cartoon swans playing football. AND! the clincher is, every Christmas, Matt Baggott gathers a cabal of wooden-tops around him and sings, "Swany River."
"Golly!" said Tommy. "What a great film that would make. The heart warming story about the special love between a simple swan and a high ranking member of the PSNI. I bet Johnny Depp could give a great performance as the swan. He could really get under the feathers."
Later that day, at exactly nineteen minutes to four, big Jim Fitzpatrick ran in yelling,
"Hide the Marmite, Tubby Nolan is back in town!!!" I glowered at my Tubby Nolan early warning system and cried, "Man the lifeboats, women and cats first!"
Big Jim brought me to my senses by showing me an erotic photograph of Noel Thompson cavorting with a wooden stile and yelled in fluent gibberish,
"Hide all food! Disguise the bread bin as a small coffin. Turn all bottles of 7up upside down. Tubby never drinks 7down. Destroy all cookery books, menus, stale bread and that photograph of your big,fat aunt Bertha, lying on the beach in Portrush, with her legs in the air like a Christmas turkey!" Tommy hid a wine gum under the sofa muttering, "I would rather by far, be invaded by the Vikings." NOW! all we could do was-wait. Far away in the distance I heard the thud of giant Hush Puppies. Nearer, ever nearer! I couldn't stand it anymore. I crept to the window, peeped out, and there he was. He looked like, "AAAAH! AAAAH"! Will I ever get that horrible vision out of my head?????
Matt Baggott visited me in hospital. He brought me a stuffed, cuddly-swan! Told me to be careful and mind how I went. I just had time to mutter, "Evening all." before the morphine kicked in.