The neighbour's cat is leopard-crawling along the top of the vibracrete wall. It couldn't be more visible if it were a black panther in a snowfield. But still it stalks its prey, a small LBJ, which in twitcher language stands for little brown job, or, I couldn't identify it. It is of such enormous proportions (the cat) that his sides hang over the wall on either side of him - he is like a black Persian. Suddenly a redwing starling, who has been an onlooker from the balcony railing, comes to the LBJ's rescue, divebombing the cat over and over again and forcing him to halt his stalking and cower on the narrow wall. It must have occurred to him that he wasn't actually hidden from view, as he made a quick charge forward and disappeared among the branches of an overhanging tree, no doubt to contemplate his next move.
In the meantime, my old kitty, Fluffy, is living out his last days in a patch of sunshine in the lounge. He hasn't moved or had anything to eat or drink for the last few days and has definitely reached the end of his nine lives. In fact, they were exceeded many years ago, due to his remarkable ability to bounce back from disasters which would have been the end for a lesser kitty, but Fluffy is a true warrior among cats, a veritable lion with a heart that won't give up, and so we have allowed him the dignity of a quiet slipping away rather than the cold and stressful journey to the vet to have his last hours snatched without his permission. I hope his sun sets soon and he can be at peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment