For some time now, my sleep has been filled with a most disturbing image…
I find myself before a bird, the most massive avian my heterochromatic eyes have ever beheld! My whiskers twitch, my body feels abuzz, as my hunter’s instincts are clearly saying, Catch the bird… Catch the bird! But… there is a problem. The bird has a most magnificent defense, and I can’t figure out a way to break through her metal confines.
And so, she sits there and taunts me.
“Raaaaawk! Bad cat! Bad cat!” I have no idea what she is saying — I swear she is speaking two-legger — but my kitty ears know a taunt when they hear one. And the way she sits there and preens herself, making a show of her dominance, really makes my fur stand on end!
I want to catch the bird… No, I need to catch the bird!
I always wake with the wrinkly one’s comfy things stuck in my claws, and sometimes even in my teeth, from some great battle I had waged against that cockatoo that I can no longer remember. But I never wake with a feeling of satisfaction. For the sake of my sleepy time, I must finally vanquish this prey…
Mraaaw! Stony Cat, what are you doing there?! That is not a face I needed to wake up to after a dream like that! Creepy good-for-nothing cat…
In order to defeat the bird, I must stay focused!
If I am not diligent in my training, then surely I will be defeated by the bird once again!
I cannot let that happen… If he tries to escape by taking flight again…
…Then I must be quick on my haunches! The paws go up to stop those flapping wings, or the jaws snap around those long tail feathers…
…And the birdy comes down!
I see him. The white stuff glistens off his feathers, calling out to my attuned cat eyes. The prey I want is here. Waiting. Ready.
The white stuff is miserable and cold, but it makes the movements of my paws silent, and my light coat blends in well. The white stuff is also quite deep, giving me the added advantage of cover. I have a good feeling about this hunt.
The bird doesn’t even see me as I go in for the pounce!
I AM VICTORIOUS!
Tonight, my mate and kits shall dine on fresh foul, and I know that my catnaps will be filled with peaceful slumber instead of taunting squawks.