As far as I can tell, Peanut thinks he’s the appointed guard for the Butler-Taylor Spread. From his perch in the tree, he can spot an invader to our eight acres with those big chartreuse eyes. Leaving the tree, he hails back to some primal nature and uses all of his big game wild instincts to protect us from any intruders.
On this particular afternoon, the intruders were the neighbors’ chickens, evenly divided into males and females who seemed to find the scratchings in our yard preferable to the ones in their own. Peanut crouched in the grass, keeping an eye peeled on the trespassers. Stealthily, he moved a bit closer and paused, a bit closer and paused, repeating the pattern until he was almost on them before the chickens took note. As soon as they saw the cat, the head rooster started a line to the fence with each chicken falling behind in single file. Peanut soon realized they had picked up their pace and were moving out ahead of him. He went into overdrive and began to run.
The chickens reached the fence just as Peanut caught up with them, and the neat single file fell apart with half the flock going one way and half going the other with much squawking and carrying on. A self-satisfied Peanut placidly turned around and came home. Everything in his demeanor reeked pride in a job well done. His people and his little patch of earth is now safe from chickens.
Who knows? Peanut may be onto something. Maybe our ability is limited only by what we see in ourselves.