My OperaA Cat and a Squirrel
Monday, August 10, 2009 4:18:58 PM
It's not news, but Blagden Alley and Naylor Court have squirrels. No oak or hickory trees, but fat, energetic squirrels. Also, at least from the squirrel point of view, there is a modern set of highways for them away from the normal streets and dangers.
The editor went out on the porch last Thursday evening to watch the Alley traffic, probably at 7:15pm. The "Outdoor Cat" was there. He's a long-ago neutered feral cat, once part of a band of four brothers. One of them has become a neighbor's "Lefty", and the other two have been killed by traffic over the last ten years or so. It's quiet. The pedicab people are returning up the alley to HQ in the middle of Blagden Alley.
Then you hear, and see, a squirrel in the cherry tree. The editor is slow at times, and wonders what the squirrels stay around here for when they could migrate to wooded parts of the land and and become Brunswick stew. Nonetheless, the squirrel is here. He's standard gray squirrel, nicely sized. "Nicely sized" means that when he was hunting squirrels with his grandfather, this squirrel would have impressed his grandmother before she turned him into fried squirrel for supper. Zaftig is the modern term, perhaps.
Anyway, said squirrel climbs the cherry tree whose trunk is on the western side of the back lot, goes out the eastern limbs to a tree on the eastern side of the yard, and then to the brick fence between the editor's yard and the neighbors.
He knows that the cat is there, and doesn't seem to care. The cat knows he's there, and is interested.
Pretty soon, the squirrel is down on the ground,
and the cat is really interested, but more curious than agressive. After all, he's just been fed.
The squirrel munches on flower bulbs, gets his fill, and exits stage left, where he came in.
And the editor went back inside to see Final Jeopardy.
The editor went out on the porch last Thursday evening to watch the Alley traffic, probably at 7:15pm. The "Outdoor Cat" was there. He's a long-ago neutered feral cat, once part of a band of four brothers. One of them has become a neighbor's "Lefty", and the other two have been killed by traffic over the last ten years or so. It's quiet. The pedicab people are returning up the alley to HQ in the middle of Blagden Alley.
Then you hear, and see, a squirrel in the cherry tree. The editor is slow at times, and wonders what the squirrels stay around here for when they could migrate to wooded parts of the land and and become Brunswick stew. Nonetheless, the squirrel is here. He's standard gray squirrel, nicely sized. "Nicely sized" means that when he was hunting squirrels with his grandfather, this squirrel would have impressed his grandmother before she turned him into fried squirrel for supper. Zaftig is the modern term, perhaps.
Anyway, said squirrel climbs the cherry tree whose trunk is on the western side of the back lot, goes out the eastern limbs to a tree on the eastern side of the yard, and then to the brick fence between the editor's yard and the neighbors.
He knows that the cat is there, and doesn't seem to care. The cat knows he's there, and is interested.
Pretty soon, the squirrel is down on the ground,
and the cat is really interested, but more curious than agressive. After all, he's just been fed.
The squirrel munches on flower bulbs, gets his fill, and exits stage left, where he came in.
And the editor went back inside to see Final Jeopardy.
