Anyway, my cats are very Laurel and Hardy in their physiques. Monty, below, weighs about 20 pounds and only reaches speeds of 0.5mph when he is waddling to his food bowl or sprinting away from the sound of the trash truck. Mr. Wonderful and I often joke that Monty could feed a family of five for at least a week if the Apocalypse hit.
Oh but he's such a handsome boy.
My other cat, Zoë, weighs about 8 pounds and is constantly spazzing out, running around the house and burning calories. I think part of the reason she weighs less is because her brain is about a quarter the size of Monty's.
My other cat, Zoë, weighs about 8 pounds and is constantly spazzing out, running around the house and burning calories. I think part of the reason she weighs less is because her brain is about a quarter the size of Monty's.
Due to some longstanding trauma from losing pet cats to hit-and-runs as a kid, I do not let my current kitties outside. And for the most part, they don't mind. They live in the lap of luxury—particularly now that we're in Mr. W's house with big bright windows that cast lots of warm sun spots on the floor for them.
But this weekend when Mr. W and I were outside working on our garden, I decided to let the felines loose in the yard.
They were both pretty nervous about the new surroundings. Monty seemed to be trying to walk extra gently on the grass, unfamiliar with its texture. And Zoë's tail was puffed much of the time, despite the fact that she was purring.
They'd been outside for about 5 minutes when I heard a hawk screech from the eucalyptus tree at the end of our street. I looked up and saw another hawk fly in and land next to where the first one was perched. A bit more screeching and THREE more showed up on the scene. They began to circle overhead.
"Oh my God," I said to Mr. W, "I think the hawks are after the cats!"
We quickly collected the chubby and skinny furballs (which in itself was hilarious because Mr. W holds cats pretty much like he's holding out a rotten gallon of milk) and returned them to the safety of the house.
But this weekend when Mr. W and I were outside working on our garden, I decided to let the felines loose in the yard.
They were both pretty nervous about the new surroundings. Monty seemed to be trying to walk extra gently on the grass, unfamiliar with its texture. And Zoë's tail was puffed much of the time, despite the fact that she was purring.
They'd been outside for about 5 minutes when I heard a hawk screech from the eucalyptus tree at the end of our street. I looked up and saw another hawk fly in and land next to where the first one was perched. A bit more screeching and THREE more showed up on the scene. They began to circle overhead.
"Oh my God," I said to Mr. W, "I think the hawks are after the cats!"
We quickly collected the chubby and skinny furballs (which in itself was hilarious because Mr. W holds cats pretty much like he's holding out a rotten gallon of milk) and returned them to the safety of the house.
Within seconds, the hawks were gone.
Apparently, they too, can spot a fat feline that's capable of feeding a family of five pre- or post-Apocalypse.
10 comments:
Here is where you and I differ. I don't hate cats, but they freak me out a little. I always feel like they're going to pounce on me from above. "Oh, but my cats are so nice! They're like dogs! So sweet."
Thank you for not having 3.
I like cats even less than I like dirty birds. You need a dog!
I can't ever let my 5.5 pound Snickers dog out with the hawks and owls! I've seen the rabbits they grab that are bigger than my pup. Our plumber told me of his 6 pound poodle being taken away! Beware!
You're right- our cats are very similar in shape and disposition. I have also never let my cats out. I used to live on a very busy street and I would never want to find them smushed by a car (it would break me). They seem ok with apartment living. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Good thing you could wrangle them in time to rescue them from the hawks! I'm amused by the image of Mr. W holding a cat.
You need a couple of Bassett Hounds to protect them.....every living creature is scared off (or annoyed)from their howling.
Yikes! Birds are so creepy. I used to not mind them, but the older I get the more I see why Hitchcock hit such a nerve.
P.S. Your kitties are so cute!
Scary!!
In other news, I once saw a quote that said "If you own 7 cats people will think you are crazy... If you own 7 sharks, then #&*% what people think: You're Badass!"
You almost lost me after that first paragraph about cats, but you won me back with talk about raptors!
I'm not entirely sure the hawks were targeting your cats, though. It's possible, but usually it's a bad idea to loudly call out your presence immediately above your intended prey...
If it hadn't had been such a feline emergency, I would have loved for you to take a picture of Mr. W sprinting with Monty, the rotten gallon of milk! Poor fatty bobatty cat.
that was pretty crazy (and i'm not even a cat person). poor things must have been scared. they are very cute, btw. i love zoe's eyes :)
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