Barbed wire fences, in the country, are useful for marking off which part we have to mow and which part the neighbors have to mow. Dogs, Shetland ponies when they can discover an opening, kids, and cats pay little attention to these markers which brings me to today’s topic.
The cat in the pictures, as you must have guessed from my title, is not my cat. Recently, he has been attracted to my yard by the hummingbirds in migration. My grandson Benjamin and I tallied at least twenty at the feeder before we gave up because they wouldn’t hold still long enough for a census. This cat was enthralled, wanting to get his white paws on them. He tried standing in the seat of the rocking chair with his front paws on the top slat under the feeder first but jumped down before I could take his picture. Once he figured out that didn’t make him tall enough, he moved over a couple of feet and lay in wait in the bird bath.
The next morning, I started out for my walk. The cat, having given up on the hummingbirds, found another set of birds to stalk. This time I saw him lurking beneath the generic bird feeder located on the shepherd’s hook. He had a good bit of patience since he remained there, still having no luck, when I finished my first mile.
Ever creative, the cat had found a new perch the next day on top of my husband’s prized red pickup. If I had spoken cat, I could have told him the two pileated woodpeckers who drilled in the tippy-top of the nearby dead tree were still out of his reach!
This is not my cat. These are not my birds, but I cheer for the fowl side. My enjoyment of this contest makes me thankful that restrictions of barbed wire fences only go so far.