The cat is an indoor cat. We let her outside once in a while, but only supervised and never in the rattlesnake season. Rattlesnakes do a job on cats, especially those cats that don't have street smarts from being outside for most of their lives. It goes like this: There are those cats that have learned how to deal with all snakes, and that includes rattlesnakes, but these are the ones that were lucky in their encounters with poison from the fangs. Those that weren't so lucky are not here as examples to write about.
Earlier, we described how Cat would climb up an oak tree and then sit high up in the branches and look like an abandoned soul, wanting to be rescued. But, we kept telling her, "you got up there, now you can get down". In an oak tree that is possible as many of the branches are big and sloped in the right direction. So, she makes it okay.
On her last foray in the outdoors, she got all excited because she smelled that some feral cat had been in her territory and took to showing that excitement by climbing up a cedar tree that had a singular trunk straight up, no sloping branches with which she could use to come down. Lots of singular branches from the main stalk of the cedar that all sloped upward. In other words, no way now to get down. I watched for some time as she was stationary, and hanging on to the main trunk. I could envision the gears rolling around in her brain trying to figure out how to get out of this pickle. Finaly, with not one solution other than to let go, she did just that, tumbling down through the branches just as the ball bounces from bumper to bumper in a pin ball machine. She was a good sport though, she picked herself up from the ground and walked away. The next day, though, she walked with a limp.
Then, there is her friend the Roadrunner. Roadrunners are rather aggressive, birds that spend most of the time on their feet, even though they can fly with the greatest of ease. Last year, the roadrunner made some visits to the porch and Cat took notice, but was not impressed with the antics of the bird. Roadrunners are rather dramatic in their presentation. They stare aggressively, they flaunt their comb on their head crest and dance around like a kid in front of a kids show on the TV.e. Cat took note but was still-not impressed.
This year is a bit different. One the first occasion, the bird was on the back porch, outside the kitchen window, dancing around like it dared the cat to come out an play when it saw Cat's beady eyes through the lower part of the window. This window is in the door and runs nearly to the floor. The entire window is covered with a slatted blind, except for the missing 4 slats that are right about eye level for Cat. These slats were removed at her request. Then the RR ran to the other end of the porch which is outside the living room. Cat then tore out of the kitchen, down the hallway and into the living room where they continued their game with Cat looking through the slit under the blinds in the living room window.
Three days later, Cat was in her aerie, the elevated house she has in the closet, sleeping away as she does much during the daytime when I heard tap, tap, tap on the window next to the front door, almost like somebody was at the door knocking on the glass wanting to get our attention. I didn't pay much attention to the noise, because we never get that kind of visitor. But then, tap, tap, tap, again. This time, Cat jumped out of her aerie and raced out past me at my desk, and tore to the front entrance. She knew who it was there to call, it was her friend the Roadrunner. They stared at each other for a few seconds, with her crouched by the glass and the RR dancing around on the front entrance concrete not two feet away, then off it raced, RR style.
RR will be back, and Cat wouldn't miss it for anything.
Earlier, we described how Cat would climb up an oak tree and then sit high up in the branches and look like an abandoned soul, wanting to be rescued. But, we kept telling her, "you got up there, now you can get down". In an oak tree that is possible as many of the branches are big and sloped in the right direction. So, she makes it okay.
On her last foray in the outdoors, she got all excited because she smelled that some feral cat had been in her territory and took to showing that excitement by climbing up a cedar tree that had a singular trunk straight up, no sloping branches with which she could use to come down. Lots of singular branches from the main stalk of the cedar that all sloped upward. In other words, no way now to get down. I watched for some time as she was stationary, and hanging on to the main trunk. I could envision the gears rolling around in her brain trying to figure out how to get out of this pickle. Finaly, with not one solution other than to let go, she did just that, tumbling down through the branches just as the ball bounces from bumper to bumper in a pin ball machine. She was a good sport though, she picked herself up from the ground and walked away. The next day, though, she walked with a limp.
Then, there is her friend the Roadrunner. Roadrunners are rather aggressive, birds that spend most of the time on their feet, even though they can fly with the greatest of ease. Last year, the roadrunner made some visits to the porch and Cat took notice, but was not impressed with the antics of the bird. Roadrunners are rather dramatic in their presentation. They stare aggressively, they flaunt their comb on their head crest and dance around like a kid in front of a kids show on the TV.e. Cat took note but was still-not impressed.
This year is a bit different. One the first occasion, the bird was on the back porch, outside the kitchen window, dancing around like it dared the cat to come out an play when it saw Cat's beady eyes through the lower part of the window. This window is in the door and runs nearly to the floor. The entire window is covered with a slatted blind, except for the missing 4 slats that are right about eye level for Cat. These slats were removed at her request. Then the RR ran to the other end of the porch which is outside the living room. Cat then tore out of the kitchen, down the hallway and into the living room where they continued their game with Cat looking through the slit under the blinds in the living room window.
Three days later, Cat was in her aerie, the elevated house she has in the closet, sleeping away as she does much during the daytime when I heard tap, tap, tap on the window next to the front door, almost like somebody was at the door knocking on the glass wanting to get our attention. I didn't pay much attention to the noise, because we never get that kind of visitor. But then, tap, tap, tap, again. This time, Cat jumped out of her aerie and raced out past me at my desk, and tore to the front entrance. She knew who it was there to call, it was her friend the Roadrunner. They stared at each other for a few seconds, with her crouched by the glass and the RR dancing around on the front entrance concrete not two feet away, then off it raced, RR style.
RR will be back, and Cat wouldn't miss it for anything.
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