Kitty’s New Friend
My grandmother’s cat, Sam, has a new friend.
Sam often camps out on the red rug in front of the open door. He enjoys the smells of the vegetation, puzzles at the rain, the wind, falling leaves.
He watches the squirrels run crazily through the front and side ya. They rarely stop their manic motion.
Neighbor cats wander by some days but Sam’s new friend is a bluejay.
This bird is smaller than some, less bright blue than some. Does that mean it’s a female?
It drops onto the cement drive and hops about right in front of the screen door peppering it’s hello dance with loud cries.
You can see the bird on the far left through the screen door.
I swear it’s no accident. It’s not that Sam just happens to be there. The bird really seems to be communicating with Sam and Sam replies.
Sam will hear the bluejay. He will cry to have the door opened. He’ll sit down and then the bird will alight and begin her birdie squawks, bouncing closer to where Sam sits captivated by the performance. He catches site of the bird and squeaks in a very strange way. Quick little cries that seem almost involuntary.
It’s happened almost everyday this week.
My photos caught the bird at a bit of a distance but she starts out right near the screen door.
I guess their exchange has been going on for awhile. I just never realized the dual intention to hang out, to communicate.
Frank is far more tuned in to animals. He noticed that a larger bluejay habitually bedeviled the calico cat who comes to lap up water that has leaked from out garden hose.
That bluejay behaves more aggressively. Dive bombing the calico in retaliation for attacks the cat has made. Maybe it’s a game for all of them.
It does seem fairly gentle especially in comparison to the vicious rumble that woke me up in the wee hours of this morning.
Two critters were engaged in a rough tussle, sliding and slamming around on the back walk way near our bedroom. One creature was making a frightening noise — a seething sort of hiss that rose to a strange, short bark. It wasn’t a dog, unless it was a rabid one. It sounded like a wolverine.
They other participant was easily identifiable as a cat who, from the sound of it’s fearful shriek, got the worst of the damage.
“WTF was that?” I said.
Frank, observer of the local wildlife, was pretty sure the bad ass in the duel was a raccoon.
Aside from the occasional procyon assassin it’s very pleasant here and I love it when it feels so very Beatrix Potter.
This entry was posted on May 10, 2009 at 9:38 am and is filed under nature, socialization with tags birds, cats, friends. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.