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

[daisytells.livejournal.com]

When we lived in the country the cats were able to go outside for most of the day. When they returned for supper I kept them in at night, so that they would not meet a skunk.
My poor old Siamese cat was the underdog in the cat-vs.-bird battle. He would go outside in "his" yard to enjoy the sun, and suddenly from above, the mockingbird would attack, diving at him. When Tim was not fast enough, the bird would peck at the top of the cat's head and then continue on his flight. He would come back again if Tim did not find another place in the yard to hang out.
The other two cats completely avoided that spot.
Obviously there was a mockingbird nest someplace close by.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Poor old Tim!