Boids

Moby has been steathily slinking to the window all morning, hunched and hopeful. The wee birdies have been flocking to the seed, on the other side of the glass. And Cat is Engaged. Every instinct twanging, he chitters at them, his tail evidence of utter preoccupation. There is a bird in his sights, here, barely visible over his right ear.



Later, we opened the screen, and he sat oh-so-hopefully by the stash. The birds were not as gullible as he dreamed.



Alternately, he's been edgy and spooked, hiding under the sofa. Where, incidentally, he can keep an eye on the flightpath.