Where does
it come from? Well, I invented it. Not in absolute terms, but I just came up
with it for myself.
I arrived
home last night to find three cats in my garden. A gray one, an orange one, and
the black one. The black one. He is one special fellow. To me he is anyway. It
is a pleasure to be greeted by him. The instant he sees me, he stops all
activity, and with his tail straight up in the air, he runs towards me meowing
quite incessantly, to then throw himself at my feet belly in the air so that I
may stoop down and pet him. And as I gently caress him, he closes his eyes and
remains quite still, closes his paws and looks like he could fall asleep any
instant. What fascinates me is that I don’t feed him.
I used to
have a black cat when I was a child, and she was very much the same. She was at
my grandmother’s place and whenever I used to visit and she heard my name being
called, she would suddenly appear from out of nowhere and rush into the house
so that child and cat could indulge in a captivated and silent exchange of
affection.
Anyway, I
obviously have a dilemma: cat love on the one side - bird protection on the
other. And the two just don’t mix. Uhm.
The dilemma
is not acute right this moment. The female Blue Tit is still brooding, so there
is not much visible activity going on. Inside the box she sits there, turns the
eyes at regular intervals, changes position. But it is all very silent. It all
passes very much unobserved even for the most attentive of cat eyes.
The
question is what happens when things start “living”.
I will need
to find a solution. Protect the nest somehow from the outside.
No comments:
Post a Comment