Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The cat arrives.

It is early morning. The cardinals are commenting on the world in the politically correct language of "Chip", the chickadee is already scolding something or someone, while the starlings are attempting to sing and failing. It is such a nice day. The cat would surely love to go out. The cat begs, and begs, stretching up the doorjamb with whiny pleas of "Meurp" on his tongue.

The cat makes its human host open the door, and cheerfully trots up the eroded slope out back. Meanwhile, the human host continues her zombie-like efforts to fix breakfast for herself and coffee/lunch for her husband, respectively. All as usual in the household.

But, hark! What is that!?

The cat is standing on the back porch with something large in its mouth. The something is feathery, brown, and almost certainly dead. The human host grabs her chest in a very real imitation of a heart attack and rushes to the rescue. She flings open the back door and almost runs head-first into the screen door for the second time in as many days.

Lo and behold! The brown thing in the cat's mouth moves! It wiggles its two stubby feet and glares at the world with beady-eyed indignation! The human host flies out the door to rescue the red-headed woodpecker from the cat. The cat drops its prey with a startled "Mwp?". The woodpecker takes this chance to get out from this neck of the woods, and flies off. The cat lunges after it, while the host lunges after the cat, falling and skinning her knee on the concrete.

The cat is lured inside a couple of minutes later with promise of cat treats.