What’s on my mind?
AN ORANGE CAT IS STALKING BIRDS.
PLEASE BELL HIM, OR KEEP HIM IN.
Life isn’t simple. It should be. Life should be rainbows and flowers and unicorns and kittens.
There’s a new cat in town. A hep cat - a term so old, it’s new again. An orange hep cat - and no, I’m not talking about Donald Trump. Our village (that pretends to be a town) is a Trump-Free Zone.
Having made little posters to alert the neighbors and let the owners know what their cat was up to, I wanted to pin those words to trees and tape them to lamp posts.
No matter how well fed, cats always revert to type - fixating on birds and goldfish bowls. I don’t like asking for trouble, so our pond has no fish. Not only do we have fish-chomping raccoons, but hungry mink and bears, too. And house cats - let’s not forget house cats.
House cats belong in houses. Not out on the street, extending claws, flexing muscles, licking lips, and hanging around with juvenile delinquent cats, asking for trouble.
Rarely do we see cats around here. Responsible owners in this semi-rural area keep their cats indoors.
This orange cat must be new to the neighborhood. I’ve seen him twice this past week (Fast fact: 80% of orange tabbies are male). The first time, he was standing in the middle of a quiet street, sizing up the neighborhood, as trouble-makers do.
The second, he was in our garden. Belly low to the ground, eyes locked on his prey, his clear intent was to play ping pong - his paw, the paddle; our birds, the ball.
Racing outside, I clapped my hands to scare him off. His response? A cool, insouciant stare and a flick-flick of his tail. As if in slow motion, he easily vaulted our 6 ft. fence.
He’ll be back. I know it. There’s tender birdies in these parts!
He’ll be back. I know it. There’s tender birdies in these parts!
So I penned a version of the note above - opening with “YOUR” ORANGE CAT … and closing with a snippety “THANK YOU!” Why post these notices widely instead of dropping one at the owner’s door? Why would I write “YOUR” and annoy the whole neighborhood? Because I don’t know whose cat this is, that’s why.
Why write “THANK YOU!” when the owner might not comply? I may as well have written “OR ELSE!” Where was my proof the cat had come over our fence? Foot-high cat … Six-foot fence … Hardly seems possible, though cats are acrobats.
Why write “THANK YOU!” when the owner might not comply? I may as well have written “OR ELSE!” Where was my proof the cat had come over our fence? Foot-high cat … Six-foot fence … Hardly seems possible, though cats are acrobats.
I originally wrote OUR birds. This sounded too proprietary - likely to get stuck in some bird’s craw. They are no one’s birds - or, more PC, they are their own birds, responsible for their own lives and decisions: #tweet-too.
Where was my proof the orange cat was stalking birds? No lifeless, feathered bodies; no terrorized birds cowering in trees.
Where was my proof the orange cat was stalking birds? No lifeless, feathered bodies; no terrorized birds cowering in trees.
Who am I to order a pet owner to “PLEASE BELL HIM …”? Maybe the orange cat was a starving stray? Maybe I’d robbed him of breakfast. Which soul has greater moral equivalence - a bird’s or a cat’s?
Life should be rainbows and flowers and unicorns and kittens. The orange cat was once a cute and fluffy kitten, innocent of the evils of the world.
I’d maligned this cat. I’d wronged his owner. How dare I! Feeling guilty as hell, I ripped up my poster.
IMPORTANT PS! USA Today reports unbelled cats kill as many as 3.7 billion birds in the continental US every year.
IMPORTANT PS! USA Today reports unbelled cats kill as many as 3.7 billion birds in the continental US every year.
© Nicole Parton, 2019
