22 April 2009

Predator-Prey Interaction

More or less the instant—for values of "more or less" that equate to "about a week before"—the weather supports the possibility, Aoife wants out on the balcony; it gets her full-resolution smell-o-vision and the opportunity to hunker down and glare at the world in the approved feline way.
As a result, I wind up wearing sweaters, turning the heat off, and opening the balcony door. Little miss cautious then lurks inside the door in a fit of predatory hope. (Since she appears to know that squirrels don't taste like food, that is to say, ocean fish, I don't worry about this. If she ever catches one there's going to be a full parasitology workup, which is going to make no-one happy.)
All that said, it's an excellent predatory glare.
Which is duly taken note of by a local arboreal rodent. (Who in fact spends a good chunk of his time doing chittering, foot-stamping, and other indications of a willingness to prove he's perfectly capable of beating her up at Aoife.)
When Aoife actually moves out on to the balcony, though, the vestiges of good sense reassert themselves and our local arboreal rodent relocates himself.
To a properly distant and elevated vantage from which to engage in some further sustained cat-mocking.
Aoife spent long enough making predatory jaw-of-doom noises back that all she wants to do now is curl up under the couch-cover and snooze. The house comes back up to non-sweater temperatures in a couple hours, once the door is closed, and all is well with the world.

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