Of Birds And Beetles.

Watch Out! There's a (Naughty) Cat About!

Long Spring evenings are what we cats enjoy most. Every evening I've been outside on home security duties which consist mainly of watching things and washing random bits of my anatomy. Of course, this is undertaken in the appropriate feline leisurely manner of an old Tom. There's not much in the world beyond my complete understanding!
'Tis Spring and the local bird population is extremely busy; swooping over the lawn, arguing about tufts of Millhouse's white fur for lining cosy nests, and grabbing beakfuls of bread for hungry nestlings. All activity is duly noted in that part of a cat's brain known as 'future dinners options' even though, at 16 years old I don't suppose I'll bother to follow it up.
In and around our house all creatures have personal names just to make things more, well, friendly I suppose. So there's Robin (Williams), Bertie (Blue Tit), Cockney (Sparrow) and Mr Crow, known in this house as Russell. He's very shy of humans but, curiously, quite brazen in front of cats; especially when it comes to collecting bread crumbs for his lofty brood. Mister says they build nests high up in the oak trees out of old car parts and lumps of concrete.
Cheekily, and not 10 feet away from me, he builds up a little pile of bread crumbs until it is almost too much to clasp between his jet black plier-like snappers. After several abortive attempts to pick it all up, eventually he swooshes off still dropping the excesses to each side like a fighter plane distracting a heat seeking missile. I let him get away with it; if only because he's pretty big and looks like he could take an eye out! Caw, as he would put it.
Millhouse, who likes to put his chops around anything moving that he deems will fit and moreover, be worth a chew, learned a timely lesson this week. Come dusk in May and June, there are strange fat things which take to the air clattering clumsily along and bumping blindly into anything in the way. Big brown beetley craft which my cat encyclopedia identifies as cockchafers. They are attracted to light so sometimes head for the house at dusk. On this warm evening Charlie Cockchafer took it upon himself to try head banging on our flatcap. So, excitable Millhouse (you know, curiosity and all that) sprang into action! Yes, it got the better of him; he had to investigate. SO out he plopped through the flap and after some swiping with his paws, caught the chubby fizzing blighter between his furry chops.
I can only imagine what it feels like to have a pair of clacking wing covers between your teeth with wriggling legs and antennae tickling your whiskers, but he certainly didn't start to chew it! You could see the notions of 'pleasant' and 'good fun' instantly fade from his eyes as he quickly spat the monster out with indignation and a disgusted shudder as he ran his tongue round his, still quivering, lips.
I looked on, smugly. I could have told him before he started, but these youngsters....


Herky