I have been remiss about updating on The Beast lately. But he has been active – perhaps too active.
It all started when Spring arrived, so I could open the balcony for him. He could sit outside and watch the word go past.
He was happy with this, until The Visits started
Wagtails. A pair, presumably nesting under the roof, but as well as tending the nest, they have developed a hobby.
First, just one wagtail at a time would appear, walk up and down the railing and then fly off. But they seem to spend more and more time doing this: now whenever the balcony door is open, there is almost always one wagtail strutting around, twitching its tail in an impudent fashion.
The beast, of course, sees them as food, so is keen to talk to them and persuade them that it is much nicer inside1. They are reluctant to accept his offer, so we get a stand-off. The birds stand on the rail or the door, mocking poor Jack2.
Whilst The Beast sits on the balcony, willing them to come closer.
This weekend the wagtails upped the ante. Both appeared to mock the poor Beast together. He was not amused.
The Beast is of course unable to keep this level of activity up, but then he doesn’t need to. He can wait.
Yes, The Beast is patient.
1 Inside a beast, I think he means.
2 It sounds like an episode of Rhubarb (and Custard).
All together now … aaaah.
Nice photos!
This is going too far: they’re now playing Dare. Both of them were up on the rail just now twittering away, then one flew down, hopped onto the step of the balcony door and strutted around until The Beast noticed it.
Here’s the photographic evidence:
The quality of the photos is more to do with the camera, the fact that I’m only a couple of metres away from the action, and that I don’t download the bad photos. I’m cropping them a bit, too, but I’m amazed at the quality. And also at the stupidity of certain birds. If they’re not careful The Beast will work out that he can hide next to the other door and leap out when a wagtail comes too close. I used to live with another cat who did this, except she would leap out at her sister.
I had a cat when I was a kid who was an excellent hunter. The birds taunted her when she was a kitten, sitting and chirping on the lowest branch of the tree until she got up there, then hopping up a level. When she eventually reached the top of the tree they’d go back down to the bottom branch. Of course they stopped that trick after she caught a couple of them, and she had to content herself with mice, water rats, a couple of moles and even a young rabbit once. Then when she got older, the birds started their taunting again. One day towards the end of her life my Dad put her outside to protect the redcurrant bush from the sparrows, and went out half an hour later to find her napping under the bush while the birds merrily stripped the berries.
Soon you will be presented with fowl offal bits. Goooood Beastie.