Wild Life

[poliphilo]

A fat, brindled-grey  pussycat appears in the backyard. He is looking up at something that interests him in the ivy on the side wall. I stare at him through the window. He catches on- and returns my gaze. I think hostile thoughts. He drops his eyes, turns and hurries away.

I'm sorry, but I'm not having it. This backyard belongs to a family of blackbirds and a robin. Go back to your house and eat kitty-chow, fat, brindled-grey pussycat. You're not welcome here-  beautiful though you undoubtedly are.

As the cat disappears round the side of the house I notice the robin watching from high up in the bare branches of the hawthorn tree. He's not stupid. He knew.

Comments

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I dunno. I find with any animal that you can usually stare them down. Either that, or they'll tear you throat out.

[daisytells.livejournal.com]

I dont know if he had bad eyesight or what, but my old Siamese Tim would look a person right in the eye and never waver. I believed he was an old soul.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

We had a cat like that. We called him Churchill- because he was bandy-legged and looked like a bulldog.