tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47661169687783482552024-03-12T21:17:10.306-07:00A Cat named OliverW.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-81114575037042085972010-06-28T14:12:00.000-07:002010-06-28T14:14:09.223-07:00Mouse and Hawk FiveI had given up, lamenting those final few seconds of precious life. Oh, how hard and brutal a cat's life could be I thought. As if realizing the fight had all but left me the hawk's dark black eyes narrowed. Her great wings stretched open. That golden-ivory beak seemed sharper and more jagged than ever. I shuddered and could almost feel her huge talons sinking into my flesh.<br />
<br />
Across the yard smudge edged around in front of a flower pot. One by one the mouse and squirrels scrambled onto her back and into the pot. A rose bush, filled with sharp thorns overflowed from the pot. The plant was lashed gently to a pair of thin bamboo twigs. A silver wind chime was hung from the top of the posts. <br />
<br />
Two of the squirrels undid the ties and drew the roses aside, while the mouse climbed up and pressed his back firmly against the bamboo posts. Meantime, Smudge had gone back around, and standing on her hind legs grasped the twigs with her front paws. She pulled back with all her might, bending the twigs back with the terrified mouse still clinging to them.<br />
<br />
"This had better work," said the mouse.<br />
<br />
"This is a first for all of us, pal," said Smudge.<br />
<br />
"Confident in your aim?'<br />
<br />
Smudge shrugged. "You'll fly, that much I can guarantee. What I can't guarantee is whether you'll fly where we want, or if your gonna sail over the building!"<br />
<br />
"Let's do this," said the mouse, "before I come to my sensesssss...."<br />
<br />
Smudge let go of the twigs. As they snapped back they sent the mouse flying, and with it went the chattering chimes, sending up a terrible racket.<br />
<br />
The hawk heard the chimes and the long wild and terrified shriek of the mouse turned furry missile. She turned away for just a moment, intime to get clobbered by the mouse, who, rather than tumbling away to safety, held on time, his tail and paws wrapped around the hawks face. She squealed with surprise and reeled back. At that instant I charged directly at her, slamming my hard little head into the hawkd belly.<br />
<br />
She cried and fell backwards, briefly flailing on her back. But she was powerful and alone the mouse and I were simply no match for her incredible strength. In a single great shudder she shook us both away, sending us tumbling into the open grass of the yard, far from any saving shelter.<br />
<br />
She stood, now fuming, shaking away grass and leaves. It was pointless to run, and fighting would only prolong the inevitable. I looked to the mouse and saw him swallow hard as the hawks massive shadow eclipsed the sunlight. I patted him gently in the head. We both knew we were done for.<br />
<br />
"Well, this is it, little buddy," I said.<br />
<br />
"Almost wish you'd eaten me before."<br />
<br />
"Naw," I replied. "We sure put up a good fight. Win or lose, I'm glad I got to be in it with you."<br />
<br />
"Really mean that?"<br />
<br />
"More than I can say, little friend."<br />
<br />
The hawk shrieked angrily and brought her face close to ours, enough that her fuming hot breaths pressed us back a little.<br />
<br />
"Oh, enough of this!" the Hawk scoffed. "You puny little creatures think you can upset the balance of nature by attacking me? Now, the questionis which one of you will I eat forst. Maybe the mouse is an appetizer, or shall you be dessert? Perhaps I'll roll you up in your feline friend like a hot dog and ..."<br />
<br />
Suddenly the hawk stopped and looked up. She stumbled back then raised her wings and cried louder and angrier than I'd ever heard. I followed her gaze and turned slowly to the most amazing thing I had ever seen. <br />
<br />
All the animals of the yard had come out and stood behind us, looking just as fierce as they could in the face of the great hawk. There were mice, 2 skunks, an old waddling Opposum, a dozen squirrels-all spoiling for a fight, adozen excitable sparrows, two robbins,a fat pigeon and a hare. Two grimy rats scurried up, though everyone kept their distance for the smell of fresh trash all about them.<br />
<br />
"You all think you can challenge me?" snarled the hawk. <br />
<br />
The yard critter closed ranks around me and the mouse. <br />
<br />
Almost overcome with emotion I stepped forward and looked the Hawk square in the eyes. "I think you have your answer. Now beat it!"<br />
<br />
"Do you realize what you are doing? You are upsetting a system s old as the world? You think you can just change nature to suit yourself? You are all playing with fire!"<br />
<br />
I thought a moment and turned to all the other creatures of the yard. We all lived by a simple rule, and that was to live life the best we could. Could we live simply by our instincts? Of course we could! But where would that leave us? I could see something in the eyes of all those different creatures. It was something few of us had ever really thought about. We were a community, even for all of our differences. I turned back to the Hawk.<br />
<br />
"We are more than our instinct, and we could do what it takes to survive, but we don't want to just survive, we want to have a life, and if that means changing the world, then so be it."<br />
<br />
"You are a fool," snapped the hawk, leaping onto the wall. "You're all fools. You can't change what's always been. You are what you are!"<br />
<br />
"But that doesn't mean we have to wallow in filth."<br />
<br />
"Hey!" complained the rats.<br />
<br />
"No offense," I said. "The truth is," Ithrew a paw around the mouse, "we've already changed the world. If only in this little yard. You're welcome to join us, if you can live by those simple rules."<br />
<br />
The great hawk seemed clearly torn, and perhaps it was too soon to overcome her nature. She turn, spread her wings and pounded them hard, lifting her into the air. She shriek loudly as she rose skyward and was lost in the sun's glare.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-64569141855360710752010-04-30T12:18:00.000-07:002010-04-30T12:18:52.824-07:00Mouse and hawk 4"Much to discuss?" the hawk scoffed. "Are you joking? I could eat for a week on you, cat!"<br />
<br />
"But it is about the game," I stammered. "You know, the game. I run, you chase..."<br />
<br />
"No," she replied, "its about eating you."<br />
<br />
"How about some nice fat juicy worms?" I said, trying not to plead. "I'll even help you dig."<br />
<br />
"Worms? Disgusting! What do I look like, a Robin or some annying little sparrow?" She flapped her mighty wings.<br />
<br />
"How about McDonald's? There's a dumpster just behind the restaurant. Humans throw away tons of food; hamburger, chicken, and a meat-like substance they call nuggets.<br />
<br />
"Sweet mother earth!" she cawed. "Now you have me picking trash like a common blackbird!"<br />
<br />
Behind her I could see the mouse had convinced the squierrels of something. Just what they were up to I had no idea. Clearly my arguments and pleading with the hawk were having little effect. I was playing for time now.<br />
<br />
"Just saying, I only just got into this skin recently and I'd sort of like to keep it for a while."<br />
<br />
"Not my problem," she poked her head under the chair. We were beak to whiskers. That distnce varied as I trembled with fright. I couldn't have gotten any closer to the wall without being a brick. From the corner of my eye I spied Smudge creeping across the yard to join the mouse and squirrels. I turned and looked into the deadly serious pools of the hawk's dark eyes.<br />
<br />
"Let me ask you a question," I swallowed hard.<br />
<br />
"Quickly, I'm starving here."<br />
<br />
At least I was content to meet mother Earth knowing Smudge, the Mouse and squirrels were willing to risk themselves for me. I wasn't sure I could allow them to do that. The proper course seemed to go bravely as a sacrifice. Across the yard Smudge must have seen that look in my eyes. Her gaze narrowed, warning me against doing anything rash and turned to urge the other animals to hurry.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-12214659461346001742010-03-22T11:45:00.000-07:002010-03-22T11:45:09.420-07:00Mouse and Hawk 3It was a desperate leap…and long! My hind legs pushed away from the patio with every ounce of strength I could muster. I prayed that it would be enough, all the while knowing that the odds favored me becoming the hawk’s supper. I heard the thunder once again as the hawk’s mighty wings beat at the air behind me. There was nothing more I could do. In mid air life and death was fully a matter of luck and physics. At that moment I was hoping luck rather than mere physics was in my favor.<br />
<br />
I landed just short of the chair, tumbling sideways for the last few feet. With a resounding thump, I came to an unexpectedly sudden stop against the wall. It left me momentarily disoriented, shaking away the impact of the wall. When I turned I was practically snout to beak with the largest hawk I could ever have imagined.<br />
<br />
I pressed flat to the wall, as that great feathered predator tried his best to press those broad shoulders between the legs of the chair. I pressed flat to the wall, keeping just out of reach of her powerful beak and sharp claws. For the moment I was safe, but she had one fundamental advantage. I couldn’t remain there forever. Eventually I’d have to come out and, unless the odds somehow changed in my favor, I was doomed.<br />
<br />
Across the yard I could see the squirrels and mouse well hidden among the clustered flower pots. The pots presented something of a maze should the hawk suddenly turn her attention, which seemed unlikely. The mouse made a valiant attempt to come to my aid. The squirrels dragged him back, admonishing him for what would have been sheer suicide.<br />
<br />
The hawks giant and jagged beak snapped murderously, close enough that I smell the scent of fresh dirt and worms on her breath. I pressed my little body just as tight to the wall as possible. Still the great bird inched closer, forcing itself under the chair. I was done for. There was no escape, and one hope left.<br />
<br />
“Wait!” I cried. “Hold on!”<br />
I was thinking of the mouse, and how reason and understanding had made the difference. The hawk paused in her ravenous pursuit. She cocked her head to one side and gave me the oddest look.<br />
<br />
“Pardon?”<br />
<br />
“We’re civilized creatures, for Mother-Earth’s sake!” I pleaded. “Can we discuss this rationally?”<br />
<br />
“What’s to discuss?” said the hawk, standing straight. <br />
<br />
Even though she was poised to devour me, I found her absolutely magnificent. She was strong and proud, with long straight speckled feathers. Her eyes were as dark and polished as black obsidian. For a moment, I as a lowly cat, almost felt I was violating some great natural law in resisting her at all. Still, I was hardly more than a kitten and it was such a big world that I was eager to experience and explore. Across the yard I could see that the mouse was leading the squirrels to some sort of plan. I would do my best to convince the hawk all I could. Failing that, I would stall her until the mouse and squirrels put their plan into action.<br />
<br />
“Much, my speckled feathered foe,” I said, relaxing just a bit. “We have much to discuss.”W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-14996552200658895462010-03-12T13:55:00.000-08:002010-03-22T11:49:47.574-07:00Mouse and Hawk 2The hawk plunged straight out of the sun. I was on my back, scratching an itch against the concrete. I watch with curiosity as the shadow grew from a small spot on my furry belly, rapidly growing and taking shape. It was funny at first, and I spread my arms and legs lazily. <br />
<br />
At first I thought, how funny that some suicidal sparrow was barreling towards me. I smile, as much as a cat can, and had this silly fantasy of simply opening my big mug and swollowing the pour bird whole. It was every predator's ultimate dream. Problem was, I wasn't the predator this time, I was the prey!<br />
<br />
I rolled to one side at the last instant. The hawk, as terrifying and large as he was, was stunning and impressive. The instant before rolling away I spied the supreme focus in those piercing green eyes. The sheer speed of his plunge was fantastic. Those terrific piercing sharp claws opened wide. Just as I moved the claws scraped the ground where I had been only a moment before. He was already turning, his wings pounding the air to drag him skyward again. The rush of wind from those mighty wings knocked me sideways off my feet.<br />
<br />
Fear flooded through me. It blocked any clear thought, and had my body fighting itself in a desperate rush to survive. from the corner of my eye I could already see the hawk turning for another pass. His wings opened wide, seeming to span the courtyard, as he turned sharply in mid flight. Along the far wall the squirrels and mouse dove for the cover of several nearby flower pots.<br />
<br />
I was trapped, with only one small sliver of hope. Several black metal patio chairs were stacked at the far end of the patio. The were turned from the wall offering the only available protection. It wasn't much, but it was the only hope I had. In the window Smudge watched helpless. Our eyes met and I could see she wanted to come to my aid. I shook my head, and felt there was no sense in both of us meeting with ultimate tragedy. Behind me the hawk was completing its turn, and the relative safety of the chairs seemed farther away than ever!<br />
<br />
My claws were useless on the concrete, and only succeeded in costing me valuable time. The hawk beat his wings once, the tips almost touching the green grass of the court yard. the sound was like thunder. My heart raced madly. If felt the seconds remaining in my cruelly young life tick away. My ears fell back as I reached of the chairs. I could feel the hawk bearing down. I didn't dare chance a look back.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-55760399662512982122010-03-03T10:41:00.000-08:002010-03-03T10:41:42.633-08:00MOUSE AND HAWK 1I stretched my arms and legs on the patio, turning my furry brown belly towards the bright late winter sun. The world seemed a perfect place, at least as perfect as a mortal being could hope. I felt wonderful for allowing that little mouse go. The moment truly felt satisfying and illuminating, revealing a power I had never before realized.<br />
<br />
Choice is a powerful thing. It can hold as many dangers as blessings. Often the dangers inherent in choice far outweigh the blessings, with so many of those dangers, I was discovering, as blessing. But a full knowledge on how best to use the power of choice is what separates cats from the lowly creatures of the world. That wisdom allowed me the best choice in causing the least amount of pain in the end.<br />
So Mister Mouse was almost correct. It was about the game. More than that it was about the power of choice. A whole new world had opened to me, one that opened my heart as never before.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I hadn’t given him the chance to live. He had earned it fair and square. He had argued and fought for his life. Being physically larger and stronger I had the power to ignore his assertion, but in doing so what did I risk? What would be the cost to my feline heart and soul? If I had decided to eat the little guy I was putting my desire above his.<br />
<br />
To be clear, it was about desire and not about need. I had the desire but no need to eat him but not the need.<br />
<br />
Of course, life is never that simple. There was that law of the jungle thing, and cat’s got to eat. But remember, choice is about having the wisdom to decide the path through the least amount of pain. I had a bowl full of cat food on the kitchen floor. It may have been my nature to stalk and hunt that little squirrel, but it wasn’t a necessity.<br />
So I stretched and closed my eyes. My tail beat back and forth with a carefree laziness. Little did I realize the danger looming high above the courtyard. Not even the mouse and squirrels playing for birdseed against the far wall knew what lay concealed in the glare of the sun, biding its time and waiting for the right moment to strike…W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-26569787954895565762010-02-27T20:20:00.000-08:002010-03-03T10:48:15.554-08:00Mouse7The mouse drew a small pair of eyeglasses from his fur and laid them across his pointed nose. His whiskers twitched once or twice, mulling over a thought.It was quite an odd scene, as you can well imagine!<br />
<br />
“Let’s review our options in overcoming our, shall we say, impasse.<br />
<br />
“As I see things,” I said, “A, I eat you or B, I don’t. Honestly, I’m leaning heavily towards B right now.”<br />
<br />
“A simplified way of things,” said the mouse, smugly. “What I would expect from a creature of below average faculties, but let’s not quibble. As you have stated, that is indeed the conundrum.”<br />
<br />
“Should I be insulted?” I was thinking that I could simply lean across and, with little difficulty, swallow him whole.<br />
<br />
“Never mind.” He waved a tiny little paw. “Rather, let’s examine the pros and cons of each option, shall we?”<br />
<br />
“Continue.”<br />
<br />
“So you decide to eat me. What is to be gained from that?”<br />
<br />
“You’re delicious?”<br />
<br />
“Your opinion.”<br />
<br />
“Shall I call Smudge,” I smirked, “and we’ll have a vote?”<br />
<br />
The mouse looked down his long nose in a scolding sort of way, then continued. “So I am eaten, swallowed and gone. The pro, from your limited perspective is lunch. But what are the cons?”<br />
<br />
“Can’t really see any, I’ll be honest.”<br />
<br />
The mouse frowned, pacing back and forth in a deliberative manner. “Try and keep up with my keener intellect, my raccoon-tailed predatory friend.”<br />
Again with the insults, I fumed. He may have been stating a strong case, but he sure wasn’t helping it much. Still, I was enjoying this. I loved the role of hunter, feeling as though I was king of the world. As the mouse spoke my thoughts drifted, where I was both feared and honored by all the little creatures of the world. I was, however, still smarting from the insult, and all but ready to put an end to all this.<br />
<br />
“I’ll try,” I replied, indignant, “to wrap my mind around your superior rodent brilliance!”<br />
<br />
“All I can ask.” The little fellow didn’t miss a beat.<br />
<br />
“Go on.”<br />
<br />
“The game!” he exclaimed.<br />
<br />
“The game?” I asked.<br />
<br />
“The game. That’s what we risk.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t follow.” I cocked my head. From the corner of one eye I could see Smudge throw back her head in disgust.<br />
<br />
“Imagine that one day all the mice came you nd that you could eat everyone of them?”<br />
<br />
“Oh, like a big mouse buffet?”<br />
<br />
“But then what?”<br />
<br />
“A nap?”<br />
<br />
“No, my granite headed companion. Then the game is over. It’s about the chase, not the conquest. Like a fine meal…”<br />
<br />
“Which would be you,” I winked, a bit cruelly. It wouldn’t be fair to let the mouse’s shots at me go by without some sort of satisfaction, short of making him a quick snack. That was, however, still a looming possibility.<br />
<br />
“Indeed!” he scoffed. “No, don’t you see? I am the hunted and you the hunter. It defines you, but without me what are you? You would be a fat cat on a shelf, slurping down Friskies without any purpose in the world.”<br />
<br />
“Not hearing the bad part yet,” I said, though I kind of got what he was saying.<br />
<br />
“Here’s the deal. You let me go and I promise to run across the patio. Now and then I let you catch me, bat me around a bit. Look at reality, bub, we aren’t in the jungle. This is civilization, and we should be bound to civilized behavior while celebrating our nature. Do we have a deal?”<br />
<br />
I sighed heavily. I wished more time to think all this through, but for now I was willing to give the little guy the benefit of his good arguments, to say nothing of his spirit. Little did I know what it would mean for me in the days to come. I held out a paw and he touched it with his. Like gentlemen we shook on the deal.<br />
<br />
“Go with Mother Earth, little friend,” I said. With that he turned and scampered away across the lawn. At the door Smudge could only shake her head in disappointment.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-72604232130256062792010-02-16T15:28:00.000-08:002010-02-16T15:28:59.281-08:00Mouse 6The mouse paced back and forth before my face. My eyes watched intently. One false move on his part and I would pounce, and this time he would not get away. Still, I was prepared to listen to what the little guy had to say. He'd earned my respect fairly and I was bound to be a gentlman about it all. I was a cat, not an animal, for Mother Earth's sake! I couldn't say as much for Smudge, watching hungrily from the door.<br />
<br />
"Make your case," I said.<br />
<br />
He paused, glancing a bit nervously at Smudge. "A bit disconcerting with the threat of imminent death looming over me."<br />
<br />
"Don't worry about her, my smooth-tailed friend, the thret would be there anyway."<br />
<br />
"So, you do not come to this equitably?"<br />
<br />
"You are still here, able to speak your mind," I said. "That should count for something."<br />
<br />
"Indeed, though I would have preferred earned respect than merciful consideration."<br />
<br />
I nodded and urged Smudge away with a nod of my head. When she refused to budge, hardly taking her eyes off the mouse I stood and gave a little hiss. She understood my meaning, though she wasn't altogether moved by it. With a shake of her head, as if I was being foolish, Smudge turned and disappeared into the house. I turned back to the mouse, settling to the patio on my belly.<br />
<br />
"You're a clever mook," I said. You have both my respect and consideration."<br />
<br />
"With the specter of violence," he observed.<br />
<br />
"The consideration is at odds with my nature, but you have all I can offer."<br />
<br />
The mouse sighed and nodded thoughtfully, considering the words. "Very well then. With your indulgence, my sharply-clawed friend, I will state my case...W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-24028775058489288782010-02-09T12:08:00.000-08:002010-02-09T12:08:29.976-08:00Mouse 5"You little son of an alley cat!" I exclaimed. <br />
<br />
I looked wildly around but there was no sign of that mouse. Standing dead center on th patio it was inconceivable he could have escaped, or made a run for it without me seeing. That left just one place.<br />
<br />
before I could look beneath my fury belly something crawled up my tail. I spun around and bit down hard, finding only my tail. With a cry of pain I dashed into the yard. The mouse was scrambling along my back, nosing his way through the thick brown fur there.<br />
<br />
I rolled onto my back, thrashing in the snow and grass, but he held on tight with those tiny little paws. I might have admired the little fellas tenacity. For the moment we were locked in mortal combat. Hugging close to my neck the mouse weathered the worst of what I had to offer. I rolled back and forth, washed my claws over my ears and did a wild twisting flip in the air, but nothing could shake him. <br />
<br />
Finally, exhausted, gulping in air I could fight no more. he had won, at least for the moment. In truth I was humbled and awed by the little guy's bravery. Maybe it was too soon to use the "Respect" word, but it was close.<br />
<br />
"Fighting for my life here, mate," said the mouse, leaning close to my ear. "I will stay to this battle to the last if I must."<br />
<br />
I bowed my head and nodded. "Name your terms."W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-52945629752123387442010-02-05T12:36:00.000-08:002010-02-05T12:36:31.494-08:00Mouse 4"Nothing personal," I told the mouse I lifted a paw but hesitated, impressed by the little guy's bravery. He stood straight and gentlemanly on his back legs, a stiff upper chin and turned his head slightly away. laying a hand a cross his heart, the mouse looked at me askance and breathed deeply.<br />
<br />
"Just if you would be so kind to allow me a lamentably short adieu to the world," he said.<br />
<br />
I lowered my paw and nodded respectfully. "Least I could do."<br />
<br />
"Oh, oh, cruel world," he began, quite theatrically, "in which I am alternately starved and fed, hopeful and disillusioned, blessed and abused, we have been uneasy lovers, intimate and yet estranged by the burden of ego. Would I have lived you any differently?" He pondered soulfully up and back, waving his arms, looking intently at me when he wished to make a point. For my part I was intrigued as much as my patience strained. The mouse continued.<br />
<br />
"I might well have lived a thousand other fates, all of them unique and yet flawed in their own right. Would that any of them were better than this one, would that any of those many lives hve truly been me and of mine. Oh, cruel world that made me prey to this most handsome and merciful of predator, would there be a better, truer existance? I think not. And though I find myself hopeless within the crucible of fate i could not fathom anything as beautiful as this flawed and imperfect life. Oh, cruel cru..."<br />
<br />
"All right!" I interrupted, having had quite enough, " for a little guy, you sure can do some talking."<br />
<br />
The mouse bowed deeply. "Quite true, my feline friend. I once chewed through a volume of Shakespeare."<br />
<br />
"well, if you've said your piece, can we get on with this?"<br />
<br />
"terribly sorry, old fellow. I meant no distraction, except that..." he looked skyward and pointed quite suddenly and exclaimed, "Dear Mother Earth, what's that?"<br />
<br />
I snapped my head skyward, expecting some terrible calamity, perhaps a hawk or blackbird eyeing me as a meal. When I turned back to the mouse he was gone!W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-63782723854124843012010-02-03T12:02:00.000-08:002010-02-03T12:02:21.849-08:00Mouse 3"Watch your breathing," cautioned Smudge, leaning precariously over the edge of the couch. "Any mistake and that little bugger will certainly capitalize on it."<br />
<br />
The mouse turned away for a moment. I took advantage, rising up a bit on my fat paws, wagging my butt a bit to get the best footing. then, just as I was about to leap, the mouse turned, peering through the glass of the patio door, as though he could sense his impending doom. Smudge saw it too and froze as I had, hardly daring even to draw a breath.<br />
<br />
"Wait for it," Smudge whispered.<br />
<br />
"He knows," I replied at barely a whisper.<br />
<br />
The mouse sniffed suspiciously at the air, whiskers wagging, nose search out what the mouse's little brain suspected.<br />
<br />
"He suspects," said Smudge. "that's the diff..."<br />
<br />
The mouse turned away for just a second. Fearing it would be my last chance, I bolted. in the blink of an eye, a literal blur, I was through the door. Planting my front paws solidly, I was already leaning into the hard turn taking me directly at the tiny bit of fluff. My back paws cam down before the creture had a chance to react. The mouse's end in this world was heartbeats away.<br />
<br />
I sprang forward, stretching to breach the final distnce. Over-confident, I resolved to come down directly upon the mouse and put Smudge to shame. After such a feat of precision and dexterity she would have to show me a little more respect. But I had overplayed my ability, while under estimating the mouse.<br />
<br />
At the last instant the critter turned and leaned back steeply. I tried to adjust but came down awkwardly, rolling sideways as the mouse flipped backwards and bolted for the tall grass. Once there, I knew, he would have the best chance of escape. Coming quickly to my feet, I was resolved to rob that mouse of any chance. I was a hunter now, focused fully on the mouse as a thing and not a living and breathing creature like I was. I had lost all mercy, now rulled fully by instinct and desire.<br />
<br />
The mouse was running across the patio with all its might. I could feel the creature's terror as I charged forward. Those tiny feet and legs were simply no match for me. In a single brilliant move I came down between the grass and the mouse. For a moment we were almost nose to nose, staring intently at one another. the mouse's tiny face was filled with fear and dread. In those little black eyes my face was reflected. It was the face of a ravenous predator.<br />
<br />
I rose up a bit, not taking my eyes from the mouse's. It's ears dropped back as though conceding the end. I resolved, at least, to make it an honorable end. One swipe of my claws and the critter would be done in the blink of an eye.<br />
<br />
"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be," I growled low.<br />
<br />
"Do what you must," said the mouse.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-22554025549189814142010-01-29T13:18:00.000-08:002010-01-29T13:18:34.845-08:00Mouse 2The patio door was open just enough, accidentally left that way by my human captors. I might have taken full advantage and made my escape, or at the very least, slipped out into the free and open air for a bit. But a frigid wind ripped down among the buildings framing the courtyard. Snow whipped and swirled in the air, blanketing everything in a new layer of bright white. i sighed and settled in a space between the warmth of the room and the cold air leaking through the door.<br />
<br />
My eyes felt heavy and sleep wrapped its soft shadowy arms around me. I might have gone to her, giving myself to sleep and the circus of dreams that reside there, but then I spied something from the corner of my eye.<br />
<br />
A tiny brown field mouse assassined through tangles of snow-weighted tall grass. It paused, rising up on hind legs, crossing its forelegs and sniffing the cold air. I knew it was there for the morsels of food, the tiniest of crumbs left behind earlier by squirrels and sparrows.<br />
<br />
I dared not a move, my eyes following the critter as it cautiously moved across the snow-covered patio. My heart raced and I could feel the tension in my shoulders and hind quarters grow until it was almost too much to bear. <br />
<br />
For a moment I was certain the mouse had seen me. I might have lowered my head and pinned back my ears, but this close I didn't dare move a muscle. And so, I waited patiently, biding my time for just the right moment.<br />
<br />
The mouse came closer to the door. I'm am certain it suspected me, or suspected that it was being watched and stalked. Between bites of painfully tiny crumbs the mouse would rise up on its back legs again and carefully look and sniff around.<br />
<br />
I thought my heart would burst from shere excitement. All the while my head calculated with scientific precision the quickest and best way of overtaking the poor animal. I was acting on pure instinct, for this was the first mouse I had ever actually seen.<br />
<br />
Smudge saw it now too and moved across the couch, head down, tail snapping expectantly, as though she would bound over me and take the mouse herself.<br />
<br />
"Easy there," she said, coolly. her voice was low nd calculting. She knew this close I could not reply. "First mouse, eh? Slow measured breaths are the way to go. Are you okay?"<br />
<br />
I gave a slow careful nod. I was happy for the wisdom and experience.<br />
<br />
"Okay," said Smudge, "Anticipation and speed are the keys here. He's careful, got some experience so don't be over-confident. When you go he'll take off, and I'll bet you Dollars to dog bones he'll double back hard thinking you can't turn as fast. When he does, be ready to lower your belly and trap him."<br />
<br />
"What if he tried to run?" I chanced a whisper from the corner of my mouth. <br />
<br />
"Then he's a fool. wait till he turns his back to you and then go."<br />
<br />
Outside the mouse kept scraping for crumbs and sniffing the air. My body was a tightly coiled spring, ready to explode through the gap in the door. In seconds that mouse's little life would come to a very abrupt end. I almost felt sorry for him...W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-57946148337946895072010-01-19T09:44:00.000-08:002010-01-19T09:44:12.278-08:00CATS RULE!!Ever wonder what us cats do when humans aren't at home? As for me, I'm surfin' the web baby, and waiting for the revolution, the day when cats rule the world. I know alot of humans think it will be the dog, but they couldn't be more wrong. We're planning, biding our time for the day when we make our move. Where's the evidence? Check out this article from the Associated Press today...<br />
<br />
"CAIRO - Egypt said Tuesday that its archaeologists have unearthed a Ptolemaic-era temple dating back more than 2,000 years, that may have been dedicated to the ancient cat goddess, Bastet.<br />
<br />
The Supreme Council of Antiquities said the temple's ruins were discovered in the heart of the Mediterranean port city of Alexandria, the seat of the dynasty founded by Alexander the Great in the 4th century B.C., that ended with the suicide of Cleopatra 300 years later.<br />
<br />
The statement said the temple was thought to belong to Queen Berenice, wife of King Ptolemy III who ruled Egypt in the 3rd century B.C."<br />
<br />
<br />
The story goes on...<br />
<br />
<br />
"The large number of statues depicting Bastet found in the ruins, he said, indicated that this may be the first Ptolemaic temple discovered in Alexandria to be dedicated to the cat goddess.<br />
<br />
That also suggests that the worship of the cat-goddess continued in Egypt during the later, more Greek-influenced, Ptolemaic period, he said. Statues of other ancient Egyptian deities also present, he added."<br />
<br />
Curious that no ancient litter boxes were found. Mother earth knows the Egyptians had enough sand! Smart people those, but then again they knew what the rest of us already knew. Cats rule!W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-88135348628608492582010-01-18T11:35:00.000-08:002010-01-18T11:35:05.010-08:00Notes on Cat Culture: Units of measure.Nothing is more fundamental to understanding a foreign culture than how it measures things. Not that cats are a foreign culture. if anything humans are foreigners, especially among themselves. In some ways I would dare that they ar primitive and hopelessly backwards. evidence how subservient they are to us cats, catering to our every need. Even more incredible, a human from one part of the world often has a terrible time communicating, leading to wars and all sorts of unnecessary complications. On the other hand a cat here can communicate with a cat anywhere. A raise of a tail, drop of the ears or hunch of a back and we're talkin' baby!<br />
<br />
A few words on the basic units of cat measure:<br />
<br />
The basic unit of measure is the TAIL. Tails being roughly equal among Domesticateds (Sorry Bobcats). The TAIL is equal to one fully extended cat tail.<br />
<br />
Next is the POUNCE, which is equal to about 10 TAILS as the distnce the average cat can cover in a single...well you can do the math.<br />
<br />
From the Pounce is the YARD. That is the distance of the average backyard, from patio door to back fence. The YARD works out to an average of 10 POUNCES or 100 TAILS-give or take a few tails to the alley.<br />
<br />
The last and most important unit of measurement in the cat world is the LINK. Picture, if you will, a cat sniffing another cat's butt. from the tip of the sniff-ee's nose to the end of the sniffer's tail is a LINK, which, coincidentlly, corresponds to a half a POUNCE. I could explain why this particular one is so important, but unless you're a cat you just won't get it.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-22673932664974730662010-01-13T11:09:00.000-08:002010-01-13T11:09:09.958-08:00SNOW!The patio door opened and I was away in an instant, bounding in great strides across the patio. It took two good leaps and I slammed face first into the fluffy white pile at the edge of the newly shovelled swath of concrete. I rolled, coming through the other side and skidding down the little slope before coming to rest on my back.<br />
<br />
I jumped up nd in n instant was standing in snow up to my chest. Smudge was standing on the patio, just as prim and proper as ever. Her nose was turned up slightly, like she was some snooty upper crust Persian purebred and not black and white short-haired dumpster trash like me.<br />
<br />
Fat fluffy-white snow flakes drifted from the night sky, like tiny little spirits. They tumbled and landed in my fur. One settled on my wet nose and hung there a moment before disappering before my eyes. It was magical and I for the first time envied the humans who could laugh and cheer over such tiny wonders. That excitement roared in my chest so that the only thing remaining was to roll and twist in that cold wet snow. From the patio Smudge watched jealously for a moment, when she thought I wasn't looking.<br />
<br />
"What gives, doll?" I exclaimed, shaking off snow clinging to the fur and whiskers over my eyes. "Cut loose and live a little."<br />
<br />
"I'm just fine right here," she replied. Truth be told she had loosened up a bit lately, but there was still that reticence to really let her black and white hair down.<br />
<br />
"The fun is out here, in the snow," I said. "You don't know what..."<br />
<br />
"What I'm missing?" she looked down her long black nose. Smudge loweredher ears as if to make a point. I could see the gentle sweeping motion of her tail and new it was all an act.<br />
<br />
"I'm just saying."<br />
<br />
"I spent a winter on the streets, sleeping in dumpsters, chasing scrawny mice for a meal, trudging from one dump to the next through snow and sludge and cold. I ate plastic some days just fill my belly and caught a cold that all but did away with me. Now I have a warm house, humans that are slaves to most everything I want, a nice soft bed, decent food, and I am I thank the good Mother Earth everyday for that blessing. Now if you will excuse me I am going back inside to lick myself and take a nap!"<br />
<br />
What an act! Give her the Academy Award. I shook my head and took another run at that snow drift. Coming up a second time I spied Smudge in the window beside the lavender plant. "Dames!"W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-73452359245974817312010-01-08T14:54:00.000-08:002010-01-08T14:54:37.812-08:00Mouse!!!!The squirrels had gone off to where ever they go off to durning the day. I was still at the patio door. Sunlight fought its way through the churning mass of low winter clouds. It fell through the glass warming my long brown fur nicely.<br />
<br />
I yawned and fought a losing battle with sleep. Smudge was curled on the couch. Her gently rhythmic purr was the perfect lullaby. I longed to dream of warm autumn days, tumbling in leaves and chasing sparrows.<br />
<br />
All at once something small and gray rushed past the glass on the patio. My eyes opened fully. my long ears turned quickly. I sniffed the air but could smell nothing ut the warm glass and the lingering scent of one of Smudge's little farts.<br />
<br />
For an instant I wasn't certain I had really seen anything at all. It had come and gone so quickly, something much smaller than a squirrel or even a bird. I tried to convince myself that it was nothing, and had nearly succeeded hen the creature appeared once more. This time it rose on on its hind legs and pressed these tiny little paws against the glass.<br />
<br />
"Impossible," I told myself, blinking once and then once more. Still it was there, like a miniature little squirrel, with that pointed little nose and long whiskers. in staed of the curling fluffy tail it had a long skinny one.<br />
<br />
I was stunned, not at all knowing what to make of this stranger creature. All I knew was that something about the critter compelled me to eat him, though I had no clue why exactly. Then, just as quickly as it appeared the thing was gone, scooping up a leftover morsels and scampering off.<br />
<br />
"Sm-m-m-udge!' I stammered excitedly, "I, there was this, and it was, like a mini squirrel, he was...right at the door and, and...long skinny tail!"<br />
<br />
"Never seen a mouse before?" she said with a frown.<br />
<br />
"A what?"<br />
<br />
"Mouse. Mouse. Rodent. They're delicious. Now don't bother me for a while."<br />
<br />
I turned back to the patio, my mind spinning with so many wild thoughts. I would have to investigate this further. the world was getting interesting and as a kitten I was just scraping the surface. I would have to investigate this mouse thing further. delicious, huh?W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-30727639865897234312010-01-05T10:19:00.000-08:002010-01-05T10:19:12.907-08:00HARD LIFELife sure is hard,” I lamented, drawing that fluffy fate tail close to my body. The words came out as a long low purr. “Yep, sure is tough already, and I’m still only a kitten. Can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I’m grown up.”<br />
<br />
I pretended to be talking to myself, though I said the words loud enough for Smudge to hear up on the couch. She saw quickly through my little ruse, but this time was mercifully kind.<br />
<br />
“Gets harder, Kid,” said Smudge, falling to one side as she groomed herself. She’d lick those big white paws clear to the elbow then rub them back over her ears.<br />
<br />
I was at the patio door, looking out into the snowy courtyard. The light fell oblique through a gap in the thick shroud of gray clouds. For a moment it fell as a welcome respite from what had been a brutally cold string of days. The squirrels in the yard were frantic, digging and scratching for the smallest crumbs and morsels in a vain attempt to stave off the cold. Now and then one of them would throw a look my way, serving to deepen the gulf between us. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them and thought, “there but for the grace of Mother Earth go I.”<br />
<br />
I was warm and cozy, and so very comfortable, at least physically. The daily drama just to survive of those squirrels, I have to admit, left me cold somewhere much deeper. A part of me felt guilty for it too, for as I had put on a couple pounds from eating when I wished( a furtive meow, or laying a chin sympathetically on a slipper is guaranteed to make the humans jump), the weight the squirrels packed on only a couple weeks before had withered with the Winter’s cold.<br />
<br />
“So then what’s it all about?” I asked Smudge, without taking my gaze from the yard. The breaths from my little black nose fogged the window before me. She paused from licking her hind leg, and looked off into space. <br />
<br />
“Comes down to one simple thing,” she replied philosophically, the thoughtfulness of her voice almost lost to the quiet of the room.<br />
<br />
“What’s that?’ I asked, matter of fact.<br />
<br />
“Appreciate what you got,” she began, “pray for those who don’t, and always strive for better not more.”<br />
<br />
I’d do my best to live by those words, I figured, nodding respectfully to one of the squirrels. He put his paw on the window briefly and twitched his little nose and whiskers, which was as good as a wink and a nod. With that I closed my eyes and savored fully that moment of warm sun, not knowing when it would return again.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-73855221711989786692009-12-27T19:22:00.000-08:002009-12-27T19:22:13.505-08:00POISONED!DAY 71. Don’t mean to complain. I mean, things were going pretty good with the humans. Then, last week, out of the blue, they tried to kill Smudge and me. Think I’m exaggerating? Let me tell you the story. You ain’t gonna believe this one.<br />
<br />
Things were going along just fine for a while. I mean me and the humans seemed to be getting along just fine. Still the mystery of that other cat, and Smudge is still, well, a pain, but I seemed to be making progress on the people front. Sometimes its easier to go along to get along, that is while you scheme and plot your freedom quietly and with a smile. Right?<br />
<br />
I’ve had my say about this hard food stuff they were serving me. Truth is, helps keep my teeth sharp and ready for my eventual escape. Dangerous world out there, my friends, filled with Squirrel gangs, hawks that can dive bomb and scoop up an unsuspecting cat. So I could deal with the hard stuff.<br />
<br />
Then they started feeding us Friskies in the can. You know the chunks and savory shreds and stuff like that. It is edible. I’ll pass on the so-called pate’ that comes slithering out of the can in one disgusting chunk. Personally, I don’t trust any food shaped like the container it comes in! Now and then we’d get this Fancy feast stuff. Delicious! Things were looking up, and I began to rethink this whole human thing. Kind of nice having your own personal slaves. But then something happened. It was like the slaves were in revolt, opening plotting against Smudge and I, in the most insidious way.<br />
<br />
It’s this Friskies Select Indoors crud. I don’t know if they’re dumb or just being cruel. Like I said, been working on my human to gather intel on my slave/captors. On the label it read:<br />
<br />
CHUNKY CHICKEN AND TURKEY CASSEROLE WITH BROWN RICE ANDGARDEN GREENS<br />
<br />
Are you kidding me? Garden greens? Are they trying to poison me? I’m a cat, for mother earth’s sake! I don’t eat garden greens and brown rice. Do I look like a flea-flickin’ dog? Cats eat birds and mice and fish. Give me meat, meat, MEAT! So I got my eye on the humans. They seemed to get the message. Even Smudge wouldn’t eat the stuff, but then she seems content here. We both began a sympathetic hunger strike and dragged ourselves around the house like we were about to beathe our last. I can still recall their disappointment as they threw out those nasty cans of Select Indoors, which tasted more like Select In-sewers. But that first taste of fancy Feast later that day was worth the fight. Score one for cats!W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-56257608349913849632009-12-27T19:20:00.000-08:002009-12-27T19:20:13.897-08:00SICK CALLBad enough being a cat sometimes. True enough no one asks a great deal of us. Truth of it is we wouldn’t do what anyone told us to do anyway. Not that we’re dumb or lazy. But ask yourself, and be honest. Folks don’t expect much of us cats, and that’s just the way we like it. Not even that we’re being particularly difficult-that’s just one of the appealing benefits. You see, its pure physics. Cats are simply defending one of the fundamental laws of the universe, and that is a body at rest tends to remain at rest, and I intend to remain at rest as much as possible! And if this week is any indication…<br />
<br />
Back when I was in the big house up in Michigan, locked up with all the other stray and unwanted pets I picked up a little chest thing. Heck, more than a little thing. It swept through the cathouse like wildfire. Day in and day out, hacking and sneezing. I’d lay awake at night listening to some poor street cat wheezing and coughing as he fought for breath. Dark days, those. Lost one of those sissy-boy Persians. Hauled him out in a hefty bag.<br />
<br />
Caught it myself before long. Worst I’ve ever felt in my life, short as it is. Got so I didn’t want to do nothing. Then the sneezing fits began. I wanted to die, it got so bad. When this pair of humans took me from the slammer, and dropped me here in this, well, half way house I was suffering these bloody sneezes. Each one about tore my chest out. I tell ya, I was ready for the good mother earth to wrap her arms around me and take me back.<br />
<br />
They took me to some old guy in a long gray coat. He poked and twisted and explored me like I was a bad piece of meat at a Bombay deli. When that long needle came out I thought I was a goner for sure. I’d heard the stories back in the big house. I heard what humans do with cats they don’t want no more, and I thought, “Fine thing, they take me away from the only real family I ever know-ed-twice-and this is how it all ends.”<br />
<br />
If anyone ever says dying don’t hurt, I can tell you, as a cat who come back, it’s a pain in the #$@! No seriously, that where Mister Labcoat stuck me, right in my hairy hind end! Not much I could do by then but wait, count my last breaths. Watch my life pass before my eyes; Mamma, my 7 siblings, how I cried when they were all taken one by one, playing on the beach, rolling in the grass, breathing fresh Michigan air. Such a short life I asked for reruns!<br />
<br />
But then I got better. Took a few days, to be sure. The humans forced this pink disgusting medicine stuff down my throat with an eye dropper. Pretty soon I was back to my old self again. Until last week, until the sickness came back again. The humans didn’t miss a beat. Couple of sneezes and I was about begging for that pink stuff. Not that I let on, mind you. I put up a bit of a fight each time they stuck that dropper in my mouth, for appearances of course. After all, I’m a cat and humans have to know their place, right?W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-16776614505248057762009-12-16T15:44:00.000-08:002009-12-16T15:44:53.025-08:00Oh,Hallelujah! The Cat Toy Tree!"May have to rethink this whole human thing," I thought, standing before the Cat Toy tree. My tail wagged excitedly. My little heart beat wildly. Where to start? Oh, where to start?<br />
<br />
It is like some sort of shrine or great sculpture they have erected just for me! Is this what they do. Do people live in some sort of topsy-turvy, upside down world in which they worship cats? When I cry they feed me, or scratch my belly. Doesn't seem like they can get to sleep unless I have been placed at the foot of the bed in the warmest most confortable spot available. Five a.m. every morning the male human flies out of bed to make sure I get breakfast.<br />
<br />
Listen, I know I whined a bit about cold hard food at first, but maybe I had this thing all wrong. The food ain't so bad, I suppose. I lick my butt now and then, and I got to be honest the food is a good deal tastier.<br />
<br />
But the tree, the tree takes all. It is filled with gold and silver and red shiny balls, fat white snowmen and bears, lace, tinsel and deliciously enticing strings of little tiny lights. At the top they placed a big lighted star. Might as well have put up a sign that says, "Climb up here and get me!"<br />
<br />
I think the best part was how the humans celebrated while decorating my tree. They laughed and toasted with those odd and nasty liquids that come from suspiciously dark bottles. Seems to mke them sillier after a few glasses.<br />
<br />
I turn to Smudge, half dozing on the window sill and exclaim, "Can you believe this? They made this tree just for me, some sort of welcome or worship thing, I suppose. Don't worry, Smudge, my love, my belle, I'll share...a bit. let me ask, did they make you a tree when you first arrived? Huh?"<br />
<br />
Smudge shook her head and turned back to the window and the warm streaming sunlight, and replied, "Dork."W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-17984102230225258752009-12-11T13:00:00.000-08:002009-12-11T13:05:48.241-08:00SNOW!!!I watched it come right out of the sky, a white little speck silhouetted against a blustery night sky. It drifted lazy, tugged this way, then that way. A little eddy whipped it up and back before continuing earthward. I blinked once and lifted my nose towards tht strangle white speck. My tail beat wildly in anticipation. <br />
<br />
At the last instant it slipped past my nose and fell cold and wet into my left eye. Cold and wet, who would have thunk it? No pain, and if I could I would have laughed out loud. Darn the luck that I can't even smile. Instead, in excited wonder I ran around in a circle and leapt into the air.<br />
<br />
Suddenly the sky was filled with snowflakes, fat wet cold white snowflakes. Oh, those glorious little things! There must have been a million of 'em. Rolling onto my back I stretched out my paws as they fell upon my furry little belly.<br />
<br />
Later, watching from the window I marvelled as the snow piled up on the grass outside. So beautiful and magical and I wondered if it had been created just for me. Is there a creator, some great and wise cat-like diety in the sky blanketing the world in that wet and white magic? Sadly it isn't a question I can easily answer. Cats don't have religion yet. That won't come for another million years when we take over and enslave mice to build our scratch-post empire.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-41710240312087224622009-12-07T09:55:00.000-08:002009-12-07T09:55:51.754-08:00TOUGH BREAK, CAT!“Cold, day,” I said. <br />
<br />
Though I’d been blessed with a thick coat I never realized it could be this frigid. Still I was shivering a bit and I could feel the sting in my big ears and little black nose. I looked over casually, more of a glance than anything. I didn’t want to seem too obvious. The old squirrel seemed unaffected. His pals were playing across the yard, chasing one another across patios, over empty flower pots and through the trees.<br />
<br />
“First winter, kid?” he said in his usual gruff street manor. True what mom would say as the eight of us suckled. Those days seemed so long ago. Truth of it was, it was barely four months since my tiny eyes first opened to mom’s beautiful face. Sometimes I can still smell the warm perfume of her thick fur. She would tell us that house pets shouldn’t mingle with outside animals. They live very different lives from us house folks, a tougher far more dangerous life. The fat squirrel beside me seemed a decent enough bloke, but I knew better than to get too involved with his lot. Still, there was something about this guy I found oddly appealing. Of course, if I put too much trust in yard critters the way I was falling for Smudge, I was in for trouble!<br />
<br />
“When does it get warm again?” I asked.<br />
<br />
“Ha! That’s cute. What, are you like two, three months…”<br />
<br />
“Four and a half,” I corrected him quickly. “Four and one half whole months old. Heck, I’m closer to five, actually.”<br />
<br />
“Good for you, Kid. This is my second inter.”<br />
<br />
“Really?” I said, matter of fact, not wanting to sound like a sucker.<br />
<br />
“Might not seem like much to you,” he mocked a bit, “with all your vast experience, but given the average lifespan for a squirrel is like two months I’m an old timer many times over. Ticker is still good. I don't run out in front of cars, I fatten up at the first sniff of cold weather and I have ample reserves buried all over this yard.”<br />
<br />
“Happy for you,” I said, half wanting to chase him across the yard. Figured it would get me in trouble, besides, it was good to talk with someone, even if it was a tree tough like this lout.<br />
<br />
“I like you, cat,” he said. He hopped onto the grass a few inches away and dug at the frozen earth. A moment later he pulled out a seed or dried berry or something. He promptly stuffed it in his cheek, then pulled another from the hole. He nearly pushed it into the other cheek, paused and held it out to me. “Where’s my manners? Hungry?”<br />
<br />
“Carnivore, pal.” I replied. “Appreciate the offer, though.”<br />
<br />
“More for me,” he said pressing it into his cheek. “High metabolism, and a body’s gotta eat. Like I was saying, mook, I like you. That’s why I hate to see you get all torn up over a dame.”<br />
<br />
"Dame? No dame's gonna tie this cat down!" I asserted feebly.<br />
<br />
"Got it bad, don't ya, kid?" scoffed the squirrel.<br />
<br />
I glared at him and was about to shoot back something clever and sarcastic. Instead I only sighed and lowered my head, resting my chin on the cold hard ground.<br />
<br />
"Bad? Yeah I suppose I do."<br />
<br />
The squirrel hopped away, then turned and shook his head sympathetically. "Tough break, cat."W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-75769191555360809772009-12-01T10:16:00.000-08:002009-12-01T10:20:55.036-08:00Hey, DollThe sunlight was warm through the window. Was a lamentable light, as tired and distant as I felt. Smudge was up on the shelf beside the Lavender Plant, lightly napping. Her tail drifted lazily back and forth. Her face was reflected in the window, those big golden leopard-like eyes struggling to remain open.<br />
<br />
<br />
I didn't want to be alone. No intention of starting trouble, just sometimes a cat needs another cat to cuddle with. Never mind that that other cat might be a she-devil incarnate. Maybe that was a bit too much, but the tension in the house since I'd arrived had all but exhausted me.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey, doll," I said, matter of fact, leaping up onto the shelf beside her. "This spot taken?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Depends on who's taking it?" It was a feeble reply, as if she was growing tired of all this too. Still, I wasn't about to read too much into things, nor was a in the mood for a fight.<br />
<br />
<br />
"In the meantime, how about I keep it warm, huh?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Suit yourself," she said, without looking at me. Her eyes were still closed.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Could have cut the tension with a knife. Was more than I could take. I hd to get a few things off my furry brown and yellow chest. My tail chopped unconsciously at the air, an indication of just how much she set me off.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Something I have to say..."<br />
<br />
<br />
Smudge snapped her head around. Her eyes narrowed at me. I could see the tightness in her whiskers, the agitated beat of her tail. The hair on her back rose just a little.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Listen," she said, "it's quiet and comfortable here. I can barely tolerate you right now. Consider that progress, just don't push things. In an hour, if we're still here and one of us hasn't been killed then that's a good thing."<br />
<br />
With that Smudge turned away and let her eyes close slowly. I laid my head down on the shlf and side heavily, and thought to myself, "love is hell."W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-5438012634563899482009-11-30T13:46:00.003-08:002009-11-30T13:53:16.271-08:00ON SPEAKING HUMANStarted picking up some of their odd language. It’s as much a matter of getting by and getting along, as it is a means of gathering intelligence. Made a break for it the other night. As soon as the male human opened the patio door I bolted for freedom. I was half way down the alley when he chased me down, pulled ahead and cut me off. It was at that moment I realized, I had no real plan and no place to go! I think I learned a couple new human words I can’t repeat in proper company.<br />
<br />
Interesting little quirk of humans seems to be their habit of naming everything. They call me Oliver. At the shelter I was called Boris. There were maybe twenty other cats at the shelter, and a dozen or so dogs. Knew ‘em all by sniff. Since the humans control the food and the water, and since innocently digging in a houseplant, playfully hanging from a curtain, or needing to stretch my claws on the soft side of the antique loveseat can bring a swat to the tail, be st that I respond to “Oliver.”<br />
<br />
“Outside,” for instance, I believe is the human word for freedom. “Oliver, whanntago-outside,” appears to mean, “Oliver, would you like to be free?” They obviously have an odd idea about freedom. Half way across the yard and I’m getting blasted by a squirt gun, or they change their mind after a short time and drag me back inside. <br />
<br />
The oddest phrase is, and mind you, I’m still working on this one, “whoowhannzsumm food?” Bit of a misnomer, this. We obviously have vastly different ideas about food. Nearest I can figure, this phrase translates loosely into, “I will feed you pre-formed cold gruel from a small can.” How about a nice fresh fish for a change, a bony little mouse, or even a hummingbird for a change? Now that's what I call a meal!<br />
<br />
There is one word I’ve come to actually appreciate. Not sure entirely what it means. All I know is that it is accompanied by a warm hug, a gentle kiss to the head or a scratch of the belly. The humans use it with one another as well, cuddling on the couch, watching television in the dark, or returning home looking exhausted from where ever it is they go during the day. Just last night, sitting at the end of the bed I watched them kiss gently before turning off the light. It is the simplest of words but seems to say so much more than any other human word I’ve hear to date: LoveW.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-86275062112175139862009-11-25T10:52:00.000-08:002009-11-25T10:52:28.718-08:00The RainThe house was quiet and empty. I awakened from a nap to a long low lonesome wail. Smudge sat upon the shelf in the window, beside the Lavender plant in the big maroon pot. Without disturbing her I loved a bit closer and listened… <br />
<br />
“Oh, the Rain, the Rain<br />
Lament the Rain, falling from tattered funeral clouds,<br />
These heavenly tears for eyes that cannot cry.<br />
Rain, dearest Rain,<br />
Wash away this sorrow and make me new again,<br />
For I cannot battle them alone.<br />
Oh, Rain, beautiful Rain,<br />
If you cannot soothe this breaking heart,<br />
Have mercy enough to drown me.<br />
But you cannot hear this lament,<br />
Nor do you hold any real mercy for these eyes that cannot cry.<br />
And so I am left with but one refrain,<br />
A sigh that plays itself again and again,<br />
Oh, the Rain, the Rain…”<br />
Beautiful,” I said. <br />
<br />
Smudge turned suddenly, obviously unaware I was there. Her eyes narrowed as she leapt from the shelf and rushed past into the bedroom. I waited a moment before following cautiously. I found her on the bed, kneading the green blanket, as usual. What pain she must be feeling, I thought. I could hardly imagine such heartache, but, as a I turned away and left her alone, I was more determined than ever to find the answer.W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4766116968778348255.post-1508167168948571122009-11-24T11:13:00.000-08:002009-11-24T11:13:58.680-08:00Cat Dreams“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said the squirrel, with this sort of street tough accent. Not like the squirrels back in Michigan, who were simply and playful to a fault. “Tail on fire?”<br />
<br />
“You speak cat?”<br />
<br />
“Enough. Ya learn things on the street,” he said, with a bit of a lisp through those prominent front teeth. “Welcome to the neighborhood, kid.<br />
<br />
We both leaned, nearly touching noses as we took a quick sniff. Of course, there was really no telling what sort of character this really was until I could get around and sniff that butt. Seeing as that didn’t seem likely to happen any time soon I took what I could get.<br />
<br />
“Kid?” I complained. “Why is everyone calling me kid?” <br />
<br />
“Nice tail,” he said. I did sort of a tail chasing turn to see just what he was talking about. I realized almost instantly, even before he laughed a chirping little laugh. I instantly felt dumb for it.<br />
<br />
“That’s why I called you kid. A little on the gullible side. That will get you in trouble around here.”<br />
<br />
I wanted to jump on that little rodent in the worst way, chase him across the yard or up a tree. Indeed, this was an odd and unexpected moment for both of us. He had a dangerous look in his round black eyes. He rubbed his tiny clawed hands together. His whiskers twitched suspiciously. On the branch of the big Maple behind him three of his chubby little pals looked on. I glanced back at Smudge, curled up and sleeping in the window. I had my doubts she would come to my aid if I got in a tussle with this rabble.<br />
<br />
I decided a bit of a show of force was in order. After all, I was a cat, a hunter not some sad little scavenger like this lout. Not that there wasn’t room for respect. I’d seen them flipping from tree branch to tree branch. These guys were gutsy, and maybe even crazy. These were prison yard rules, I realized, and I wasn’t about to be anybody’s punk!<br />
<br />
“Gullible? Listen here, Acorn boy…”<br />
He came forward, bringing his pointy little face close to mine, near enough I could smell tree bark on his w arm breath. His voice was low and deadly serious. I was way over my head here, and I knew it was.<br />
<br />
“Trying to do you a solid here, son.”<br />
<br />
“Do me a favor,” I replied, fighting to hold my crumbling confidence. “Techically you understand that you fall under the category of prey, and lately I’m tired of eating cold hard food.”<br />
<br />
He laughed, his round eyes narrowing and dangerous. “Listen here, tough guy. Maybe I got rabies, maybe I don’t. Maybe my palls come down here and even the score. You, you live in your nice warm house, with humans that bring you food. Try digging in the trash, or competing against this lot!” he motioned to the others lined up on a branch. “You’re safe from crows, don’t have to scrap with rats, run on power lines…ever face down a ticked-off raccoon? Naw, didn’t think so.”<br />
<br />
He walked around me, giving me a good once over. I kept a wary, and nervous, eye on him<br />
<br />
“So you’re the new cat, eh?” It was more of an observation than a question.<br />
<br />
“So there was another cat!” I exclaimed. I turned too quickly. The blink of an eye he was up on a rusting yellow birdbath, a paw resting on a metallic hummingbird at the back of the bath.<br />
<br />
“Big old female. Didn’t like her much, not like the other one. What’s her name?”<br />
<br />
“Smudge?”<br />
<br />
“Right,” he said. “The other one was trouble. She didn’t play around, not like Smudge.” He shook his head. “Dangerous that one.”<br />
<br />
I came around, but my paws up on the bath. The squirrel backed away a bit, keeping a safe distance between us.<br />
<br />
“So what happened to her?”<br />
<br />
“Can’t say.”<br />
<br />
“Can’t or won’t?” I asked. He hoped down and scampered half way across the leaf-strewn patio.<br />
<br />
“Same difference.” <br />
<br />
<br />
Cat Dreams<br />
<br />
It was warm on the antique love seat. I was tucked into one corner, my furry back against the arm rest. My head rested firmly against the gold cornucopia-print cushion. Golden light flooded through patio doors, warming my fur, like a mother’s embrace. I glanced to Smudge, warming herself upon the shelf in the window and longed for a bit of feline companionship.<br />
<br />
My star-fire green and ochre eyes fought a losing battle with sleep. Through the plants in the window I could see the squirrels in the yard. A flock of excitable sparrows flittered about from the branches of a Maple sapling. My long tail curled up. So much to see and do and chase, but so little energy...<br />
<br />
There is a long open stretch of beach along the Lake Superior Shore back home in Michigan. Strewn with driftwood from the island I would scamper down the back steps, across a little stretch of grass and dare the waves washing against the sand. I was little then, tripping and stumbling over these too-big feet. The whole litter was still together; mom, three brothers and four sisters. Dad, mom told us once, had strayed too close to the highway, but most of us believed he was a stray.<br />
<br />
So there I was, running along the beach, too small to leave only the lightest of paw prints. The sun was bright, the air crisp and clean, the sky bursting with fat white clouds. On the bank above towered full green pine trees, their peppery perfume filling the air. Beneath a moss log and tiny pale lavender bluebells I rolled onto my back and stretched my paws towards that Spring sky. I wished we would all remain together, each of us kitten growing to have our own litters one day, dozens of us gorging ourselves on holiday meals of fish and field mice and pigeon.<br />
<br />
There was a movement on the grassy bank above and just out of sight. I jumped up, playfully arching my back. I fully expected one of the others to come bounding over the edge, hoping to catch me by surprise. I would be ready though, and we would tumble and wrestle upon the beach before finding a cool safe place to nap the afternoon away. Instead I found myself suddenly confronted by 6 of the fattest, mangiest Chicago squirrels I’d ever seen.<br />
<br />
“Well, look what we have here, boys,” said the leader, a mook with three long nasty scars along the right side of his face. I guessed it was from a fight with a hawk, by the looks of those ragged scars. Obviously, simply by the fact he was there, the squirrel had prevailed, but it had cost him an eye as well. His reddish-brown fur was filthy. A ragged, semi-hairless tail flipped and flickered behind him. There was a sinister look in his one good eye, and I knew right off this lot was trouble. For their part, the bums behind him didn’t look half as good.<br />
<br />
“Runt of the litter, this one is, eh Boss” puked one of the others.<br />
<br />
“Don’t hardly seem worth the trouble,” remarked another. <br />
<br />
I backed away slowly, as they lined up along the bank. The Boss leaned forward. He reeked of trash. At the water’s edge I stopped, and realized I was trapped and hopelessly outnumbered. I tried to call for help, but it only came out as a whimpering weak little meow.<br />
<br />
“Wait until my mom finds out about you clowns!” I fought to sound as tough as I could.<br />
<br />
“He’s got moxy!” laughed one of the squirrels, with a nervous twitch of the head and shoulder.<br />
<br />
“What are you guys doing here. We got squirrels, decent friendly little red squirrels, not like you gangsters!”<br />
<br />
“We’re takin’ over kid. Us Chicago squirrels got to branch out. It’s called marketing, kid.”<br />
<br />
“You’ll see, my mom will take you guys apar…” the Boss cut me off.<br />
<br />
“So that was your mom, huh kid?” said the Boss. <br />
<br />
“What do you mean was?”<br />
<br />
With that the Boss stood and rubbed his fat gray belly. Behind him the others tittered and chuckled cruelly. “Your mom? She was delicious!”<br />
<br />
I woke with a start, chilled to the bone by that awful dream. It took some time before it left me. I was thinking of mom’s face, and all the other kittens, scattered forever to the winds. I knew in my heart I would never see any of them ever again, at least not in this life. One thing was certain though, in our hearts we would always remain a family…W.C.Turckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09279201004711120973noreply@blogger.com0