So Maybe Cats Can't Stalk Everything That Walks The Earth

Today I return to the realm of our masters and mistresses, that particular ultimate life form on the planet known as the cat. I've blogged about them before, and no doubt will do so again (there's so much fodder on the net to work with!).

I've previously established that they are, of course, the highest form of life on the planet. The wise among us lowly human beings accept this as literal fact. Others deny such a premise (Dad, I'm talking about you). Let them continue to delude themselves with that.

As I've said before, it's been my privilege to be part of the household staff for feline overlords for much of my life. Though I don't have the honour of doing so at the moment, there are plenty of cats in my area. If I meet one out on their morning rounds, I'll always show proper deference to them. It's the least any of us can do for our supreme overlords, after all.

My parents have had a couple of cats in recent years while living in Ontario's cottage country, both of them related, both black and white cats. Pandora and Dakota have been known to climb outside brick walls, stay out until all hours, make use of the nearest human being as some very handy furniture, and stalk white tailed deer. Yes, they stalked deer. I've watched it happen. The deer will be out on the lawn, nibbling on the grass, and the cat starts to approach slowly, crouched low, just like the lions in those nature documentaries when they're after an antelope. The cat gets closer and closer until the deer finally has enough of the game, stomps at the ground or gives a snort. The cat gets up and walks away in a very dignified way, as if to say look how close I got to the deer this time!

There are limits, of course, to what they'll stalk. Some years ago I remember sitting out in the gazebo one afternoon reading a book, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black and white blur sprint down the driveway and up onto the deck of the house, scurrying up the wall to the second floor balcony. I wondered what had the cat in such a state.

Then I saw a large black bear lumber its way down the driveway, not even noticing me, mind you. The bear crossed past the house, and went off to the woods beyond.  As far as he was concerned, the cat wasn't worth the bother of chasing. It was nothing more then a chance encounter while he was out for an afternoon stroll.

For the cat, however... that thing was just a little too big to stalk.

We're privileged to share the planet with the ultimate form of life ever devised. Cats treat us with disdain and disinterest, knowing full well that they have us wrapped around their paw....

Now, while you've been reading this, the cat has succeeded in undoing that whole ball of yarn and scattering it all over your house, Yes, through the stairway banister, around the table, around each leg of your chairs, through the kitchen, and into your linen closet. Good luck getting it back into a ball!