TUESDAY TAILS
The Owl & The Pussy Cat
As mew can see I've been a furry, furry bad boy and have been doing things I shouldn't.
This I can't deny, as it's written, well smeared all over me.
Who's A Really Dirty Pussy Then?
But then I am a cat, and as mew, my fellow felines know, curious is just one of our many names and I just happened to get a severe attack of the curiosities down the field in the bonfire heap and I mean it was a supurr, mega, full on, uncontrollable attack of the curiosities, I was totally at the mercy of this inherited genetic feline flaw and sadly fur me, it was dark and when I came home this is what I looked like.
If it had been earlier in the day, I may have seen that I looked like I'd been pushed up the chimney, but it wasn't, so I didn't and I appeared at the back door looking like this.
>^.^<
So let me start at the beginning. First I'll set the scene...
The night was dark, yet the moon was almost full. The air was still, yet crisp and fresh.
The light dew sparkled like tiny liquid diamonds on the grass.
A myriad of scents drifted lazily on the air, like a meandering stream through a verdant meadow.
Stars twinkled above as bulbous white fluffy clouds coasted serenely and silently through the sky.
Soft rustling pervaded throughout the undergrowth in every direction.
The old gnarled trees spoke softly to one another as their branches gently creaked and groaned.
I sat as still as a statue on the freshly mowed path halfway down the field, absorbing every scent, every tiny sound and every vibration that was whirling around me like an unseen force. I stretched my senses our further, my whiskers trembling effurso slightly as I gauged effury nuance and invisible inflection. The tall grass either side the of path, whispered quietly as it swayed with a slow easy motion.
Tonight was a purrfect night to hunt!
Suddenly a large owl screeched loudly shattering the silence.
I glanced upward, watching death on wings swoop low and long not far from my position.
Furry slowly I crouched down as my gaze remained on the predator above.
It circled around and around the field looking fur prey. I could feel it's energy and hunger resonate through the ether and my whiskers fluttered with excitement. I opened my mouth and tasted the air, letting the scents glide over my tongue.
Fear tickled my taste buds, not my fear, but the fear of all those around me hiding, trembling and praying in the tall grass and undergrowth.
I watched the owl swoop low above the bonfire heap, it screeched again, its call echoing through the stillness was a warning that the grimm reaper was here fur one of them.
Inhaling again, their terror flooded my senses in a most overwhelming manner. Slowly I stood, stretching my muscles as I moved forward in a stealthy but deliberate gait towards the bonfire heap.
Whiskers twitching on overdrive, I was being driven by an unforeseen force towards the blackened mound covered in dead branches and garden debris.
Another screech tore through the sky directly above me, I sank to my belly in the long grass, the cold dew clung to my fur as I continued my journey low to the ground, inching closer and closer to this charred island of death at the centre of the field.
I felt the air quake right above me as the owl rushed by just above my head, its wing tip just glancing my ears like a brief but tender caress and then it was gone. I looked up and saw it framed, an inky winged silhouette against the bright white moon. I hesitated fur only a moment before I continued.
I was almost there at the island of death, it was in my sights as I nosed noiselessly through the tall whispering savanna. The scent of the charred mound filled my nostrils, I opened my mouth again to taste the other scents leaking from the epicentre of the blackened island. Fear, terror and panic washed over me, engulfing me, enticing me, drawing me closer, moment by moment.
The rustling and scurrying got louder and louder the closer I got. Small almost inaudible squeaks permeated the air in effury direction. I bared my teeth, opening my jaws wider, tasting more and more terror, panic and fear. Pinpointing the precise location with my supurr honed senses I launched forward in a high, graceful arc and plunged down with paws of death.
The thought of hot, warm, juicy mouse flooded my brain as I hit the ashy mound right on target. Right on the prey. The owl screamed only inches above me as it too had zeroed in and targeted the same victim. Its anger was clearly apparent and I ducked just in time, missing the lethal talons by a gnats whisker.
In my haste to manoeuvre from the owls killing blow, the mouse had gotten away. But I was not deterred in the slightest. My heart was in the chase and I wanted a warm meal. Digging down through the branches I made my way further into the blackened char, my paws scraping through the stinky ash. A dust cloud rose surrounding me on all sides, saturating my nose with the scent of carbonized plant life.
I heard deep, powerful wing beats as I peered through the branches and then the owl dived again, swooping low to the ground, legs first, talons outstretched and glinting dangerously in the moonlight. I held my breath as I watched the razor sharp claws connect with a small brown furry bundle scurrying into the tall grass. The mouse was caught in a death grip and in a split second was gone, death on wings had claimed him, taken him and the chase was over. It was pure poetry in motion to witness and I felt almost [I must reiterate - almost] humbled by the sheer magnificence of this pawesome predator.
A victory cry echoed around the night, pure and utterly glorious in its win.
A victory cry echoed around the night, pure and utterly glorious in its win.
I sat on the cold ash fur a moment and pondered whether to go after another warm, tasty morsel, as there were plenty still there, frozen in abject horror as one of their brethren had been snatched by the winged demon neffur to return. After a minute or two I decided that I had enough excitement fur one night, it was getting colder, I was hungry and the P.A. had boxes and boxes of Felix pouches in effury flavour to satisfy even the most finicky of taste-buds.
Crawling out of the island of death, I wandered back to the mowed path and headed home, and even though I didn't get the mouse tonight, there's always tomorrow and the chance of another juicy, tasty treat.
The Moral of the story is
Neffur Get Your Fur In A Twist Over A Missed Morsel
There's Always Next Time
>^.^<
And that's my exciting Tuesday Tale and how I ended up looking like a chimney sweep, I do hope mew enjoyed it and come back tomorrow fur more capers if mew have time.
Bestest Tuesday Purrs
Basil XOX
