They sure try my patience. You’ll never hear me threaten to find them different homes, that’s not gonna happen as long as I’m healthy, but sometimes I think about me running away for some peace and quiet. A story from last night.
I had finished my dinner and we heard much chirping and squawking from on the patio. I ran out to see what was going on. One of the cats had a bird (it all happened so quickly, which cat didn’t register) and the mate or parent bird was going after this cat. The cat let loose of the bird when double teamed by the other bird and me and started to fly away.
Opie grabbed it before it had a chance to get very far up in the air. This fat woman (me) was chasing Opie, yelling “no! no! no! no!” (I had no idea I could move that fast.) He ran into the garage via the cat door. If that bird got loose in there, it would have been a nightmare with the rafters and all.
He ran behind a cat tree, I gave chase, was on my knees and this worried him more than keeping the bird in his mouth and he dropped the bird and ran inside. I reached in and got the bird, which, thank God, was none the worse for wear. I took it outside, it giving me hell and trying to bite me and I put it through one of the spaces between the wire on the fence modification. I took care to not hurt the wings. It flew away. Then it flew back into the tree. My hands flew in the air “go away until the cats cool down!” flew out of my mouth.
Brian says “those birds are teasing the cats!” You know, I really don’t care who’s teasing whom, there will be no dead birds in my yard because of my cats if I can help it.
I have no idea why it’s so bad this year. Maybe Skipper and Spot are excellent hunters, can leap ten feet straight into the air or something. But I’m not liking it at all.
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