Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

Jealous Cat

My son's Siamese, Yoda, is with us for a few months. I think I am getting him spoiled. Yesterday he saw me feeding a Sandhill Crane and went bezerk.
There's a Sandhill Crane that comes to our porch door and gently taps at the glass with his beak and waits for me to give him a few pieces of bread. Not to worry, I don't feed any birds with white bread but with the seven-grain natural one.
Anyhow, as usual the bird was waiting for me and Yoda was curiously watching him. A Sandhill Crane is about 4.5 feet tall on toothpick-thin long legs and its body is probably three to four times that of the cat's. At the time, both animals were eyeing each other in a friendly manner, the bird standing at the door, the cat sprawled on an outdoor chair. Then, I spoiled it all. I brought out a few pieces of bread and gave it to the bird.
Yoda's ears suddenly started to move back and forth. First, looking at me, he let out a wild meow as I entered back into the porch through the sliding door, as if saying, "How could you betray me like that?"
As I went into the house, I glimpsed Yoda jumping from the chair, taking position under the table and taking his sleek hunting stance. Then, stealthily, the cat began crawling on bent legs (knees? Do cats have knees?) and neared the porch door.
The bird was busy consuming his prize out on the cement pathway in the yard near the porch. Yoda suddenly leaped at the glass door.
Luckily, there was that door between them and I am glad it is tempered outdoor glass. The bird startled, flapped its wide wings and jumped back a few feet, but didn't fly away. One doesn't fly away from someone deemed as a friend with only one gesture, does one?
I went out and told Yoda to stay away, not that he would listen, but at least, I'd feel right. I came back inside the house.
Leaving the bread pieces alone, the bird came tapping at the porch door again, his head turned toward where Yoda was. I bet the poor thing thought it was a game of sorts.
I stood at the house door and told Yoda to not dare move. The bird went back to eating and Yoda sat on the porch floor. I went in. Not even two seconds later, Yoda started moving toward the glass porch door like a slinky toy. He suddenly leaped again. The bird backed up.
This time I didn't interfere. Who am I to dare butt in with Nature's rules? The huge bird and the small cat, one inside the porch the other out in the yard, stood eyeing each other with the glass door in between them for at least an hour. Neither moved.
In the meantime, I went in the house to answer the phone. When I looked from the window again, the bird had left and the cat was pulling at his hair on his front legs. Yoda always does that when he is nervous.
The story didn't finish there. Entire day yesterday, Yoda avoided me. No more rubbing against my legs, begging for treats and attention. If anything, if he saw me coming towards him, he changed his route.
This morning, however, the entire incident is forgotten, thanks to a chunk of chicken meat that served as the peacemaker between us.
Maybe someday, in some place, cats and birds will get along and the deer and antelope will play together.