The sun remained below the horizon and only a sprinkle of light fell on the land. All of the windows were open so that I might enjoy the sleep induced by cool dry temperatures. With but a sheet wrapped about me, and of course all of my spoiled brats haphazardly sprinkled over the bed and me, I was snuggled in a position of contentment. My mind was barely aware of the world with eyes open in tiny slits of fogged vision.
Complete wakefulness struck me with great clarity and awareness, not to mention a bit of fear. I was being watched. Something was sitting right outside the bedroom’s patio doors. I even heard its cry. I sat upright in bed as though someone pinched me, and this had the unfortunate effect of causing all of the fur people to jolt out bed, and that caused my peeping Tom to leap up in shock before falling back to his watchful position as though nothing had happened. At least I knew we were all awake at that point.
Clear vision came quickly and I focused on the watcher. It was the black Persian cat I’d been paying attention to as well as feeding. He meowed again. I laughed. Well, he scared the hell out of me. With the windows open and my own brain trying to wrest itself from sleep’s embrace, all I knew was that I was being watched, I could see a dark shape hovering at the door peering in at me, and it was making noises I couldn’t as yet identify. Oh well.
With sleep now a memory, I rose, grabbed some food and water, and went out to the patio (after putting on some shorts, mind you). My little friend was quite lovable as always, and he was equally thrilled for the meal. I gave him plenty of affection while he ate, visited with the inside fur people, and peppered me with demands for more attention.
After several minutes of these activities, he leaped upon the fence and demanded more attention. I spent time giving it to him. Eventually, with belly full and appetite for notice momentarily satiated, he jumped down from the fence and wandered off.
Later in the afternoon, I walked into the bathroom to feed and water The Kids. I noticed as I entered that he was back. I leaned back out of the bathroom and looked through the bedroom to the patio where he sat watching me, and he immediately meowed when he saw me looking at him. I laughed.
I completed the task at hand before going outside to visit with him again. I provided fresh water while he ate. I could almost hear the gratitude in his voice when next he spoke. Once again, I spent several minutes deluging him with affection. He seemed disinterested in leaving; nevertheless, my list of things to do was not getting shorter while I stood outside petting a stray cat. It was immediately following my decision to go back inside when the first bird attacked.
Amusing fails to describe what happened. I was standing near the fence petting the cat when I became peripherally aware of an inbound object. It was moving too quickly to see clearly before it arrived, yet I still turned my head in its direction. The feather fighter, I quickly discovered, was coming right at the cat. It struck him, flitted uncontrollably into the air, struck me in the head before recovering, and then exercised wisdom via a hasty retreat. Given the up-close and personal view I was provided during this assault, I recognized it as a mockingbird. That perfectly explained the attack. Like blue jays, they gang up on enemies and will attack anything seen as a threat.
I could hear more mockingbirds chirping angrily over my shoulder and glanced toward them. As they are apt to do, they were quite angry, expressing it loudly, and three of them were already joining forces. At the moment I took in full sight of them in their frenzy, one of them launched itself at us. Wings moved forcefully to provide the best strike. I turned in time to see it bounce off the cat who, I should add, was talking back to them but otherwise not taking action.
This occurred two more times, one of which again resulted in avian kamikaze into my head. I was amazed by how close they were coming to me just to get to the cat. He took the licks with aplomb. His confidence intact while his feline nature demanded action, he finally leaped from the fence and trotted around the corner where the birds were meeting to coordinate their offensive.
I went back inside. Rest assured spending time with my own children was high on the list to avoid any jealousy issues.
Oops, too late. Besides, they can be jealous of each other when the mood strikes, so little could avoid a bit of suspicion and anger each time they saw me outside with The Mouthy One. It’s even funnier to see them congregate at the window if it is open and he arrives.
Just an hour ago, I was cleaning the cat boxes and again saw him eating on the patio. I finished my chore before fetching him fresh water. He lapped at it eagerly, and then he returned to the food for his second course. I gave him plenty of attention as you can guess. A bit more food, a lot more love, and off he went to enjoy the rest of his evening.
Tomorrow I will make an effort to capture some photos of him. Certainly, his present condition will be immediately and painfully obvious: the horrendous knots in his fur that have literally rolled the hair off his body. Ouch. If he continues this great progress in accepting me, I hope to get him to the vet much sooner than I originally estimated.