Zeugma: Dad, can I get inside the birdfeeder?
Me: Why would you want to do that, sweetie?
Zeugma: So I can give them a surprise!
Me: Hmmm. What if they don’t want a kitty-cat surprise?
Zeugma: (pauses) Pleeeease?
Me: Do you know about the big, big birds?
Zeugma: (uncertain) What big birds?
Me: Those chickadees and sparrows and wrens at the feeder are just babies.
Zeugma: Really?
Me: Yes indeed. Their parents are as big as warthogs, and they wait until little kitties climb up inside the birdfeeder, and then they swoop down and pick up the birdfeeder and take the kitties back to their nests.
Zeugma: (nervous) What do they do then?
Me: Why, they feed the kitties to their babies, you wicked girl.
Well, OK. It didn’t happen quite like that. But we were out on the back deck today, after quite a bit of birdfeeder activity, and Zeugma managed to stretch herself out up on her hind legs and get her front paws on the feeder and have a little sniff-sniff around the thing that’s provided her with so much viewing pleasure, and I figured she needed a stern talking-to.
Poor Z. Someone’s always messing with her.
Poor Z, my foot. I’m not going to let her get inside that birdfeeder however much she begs. She does, however, manage to get plenty of cat-hugs, putting her front paws over my shoulder when I’m trying to work in front of the computer.
But, Daddy, I’m just doing what comes naturally.
You know, when I picked her up at the shelter, I just assumed she and Tink were both felis catus domesticus. Imagine my surprise upon discovering that Zeugma is actually a felis catus invescusavis, a cat breed which, according to the International Cat Breed and Nomenclature Registry, “has remarkably adapted itself — with spatulate front paws and a highly flexible, thin, and elongated skeletal structure — to making its home in external birdfeeders in the Northeastern United States.” And I thought she was just skinny! You’re right, Cindy; it’s completely natural for her breed: from now on, Zeugma sleeps in the birdfeeder. 🙂