May 15 2008
Peace Offering
The previous owners kindly left a bird house hanging off my back porch awning and I have a direct view of it from my kitchen window. Two wrens began padding their nest and worked diligently for days getting it just right. A few weeks later, I walked out on to the back porch to hear the little cheep cheeps of baby birds. I have been observing the parents endless trips to bring their hungry children food. Their task may be more labor intensive than mine, but after 15 days they throw their children out of the house. For me, the feeding routine lasts 18 years for each. Two days ago, I looked out the window and saw the black neighborhood cat standing on the porch railing and reaching for the house. I flew out the door like a mad woman, yelling and chasing her off. We had previously been on good terms and I often requested that if she was going to wander about my yard, she could have the courtesy to kill a few moles. I watched her stalk a mole once, but she didn’t kill it. I read online that cats do not like to eat moles. They taste bad. I then decided that I must now take some action to keep her off of the porch railing. I read online that cats won’t jump on things if they are wrapped in tinfoil. So, I went outside and wrapped my porch railing in tinfoil. I was then on cat watch and constantly looked out the window to ensure my defenses were in place and prepared myself to chase off all cat threats. There are actually 2 black neighborhood cats. They are both solid black with golden eyes. One is fat, one is skinny. So, when I saw her fat brother sitting under my bird feeder, I charged out the door yelling, “Get out of here! Get out of here! Leave my birds alone!” He ran off and I was feeling quite pleased when I looked up to discover my neighbors sitting on their back patio. All of a sudden it dawned on me…Not only do I have my back porch railing wrapped in tinfoil, but I periodically come running out of the house like a nutcase. “She’s mad,” I say, “Stark raving mad!” I slunk back into the house. The next day, I walked out on my front porch to discover a lovely dead mouse, freshly killed, and left neatly for me. A peace offering. Being a cat person, I couldn’t help but feel touched. Our barn cat in Germany, Fruhliche would bring all kinds of things to me as a gift: whole dead mice, mice with their heads decapitated, just the head, just the tail, a mouse gallbladder, etc. When she wanted to add some excitement to our lives, she would bring the mouse in live, let it loose, and then stalk and kill it. I never knew that cats growled until I was woken in the dead of night and heard her growling at a mouse next to my bed. It was a fearsome sound. So, I knew this was an offering given in the hopes of reestablishing our peaceful coexistence. Either that, or she was making a trade for the baby birds.
Mugs,
I forgot about Fruliche in Germany. After she brough it in I had to keep Czar from eating it.
Mustard? Don’t let’s be silly!
It’s frightening that you know what a mouse gallbladder actually would look like!
You made me laugh out loud with that comment, Dennis. Yet another bit of information I got online. I always wondered what mouse organ she would periodically leave me as a gift. When I read the article that cats don’t like to eat moles, it also stated that mouse gallbladders tasted bad and cats often will not eat them. Hence the expression, “Bitter as gall.”