Just a Game of Cat and Mouse

I stood there amazed, just waiting for blood to ruin this Hallmark moment. All around me the trees seemed to whisper, “Be still and watch.” As I was about to abandon this sacred scene, the beast slowly lifted the wounded baby and placed it at my feet. The big, yellow eyes that gazed up at me seemed to hold and emotion of caring. On this frigid evening, nature showed me that all creatures are capable of love, even a cat and a bird.

Not all felines enjoy basking in the sun and slaying with yarn. King, my eighteen pound tabby-cat, tends to enjoy activities a little more barbaric. When he isn’t stalking the neighbor’s dog or hunting all creatures that wander near his lair, he enjoys attacking my mother until he gets what he wants. His rather undomesticated habits have led me to see him as less of a household pet and more as a ferocious lion. Thus, I call him “The Beast.”

While reading the final Harry Potter book one oddly chilly night in September, I heard a loud thump resonate from the downstairs window. Afraid that someone was attempting to break in, I clutched my book in my fist, ready to use it against any attacker. I cautiously gazed out the window and my heart began to break. A beautiful Cardinal was lying helpless on the ground, which was now speckled with blood. I figured that this brilliant creature had blindly run into the window. I got the key and rushed outside to get a closer look at the