Saturday, July 18, 2009


Vivani Catpants has a technique she uses when hunting houseflies: slap them to the windowpane with her paw, clap her two paws together, and bring the fly trapped between her paws to her mouth. Mmm, good eating.

Yesterday, my husband says, Are you going to ask me about the butterfly wing? Well, no, I wasn't; I figured he put it on the sill above the kitchen sink because it was pretty. But he said he left it there to remind him to tell me that Vivani caught a butterfly. He knows this because he saw her in the bedroom, dry-heaving like only a Stafford can, until she horked up a small pile of legs and body parts. It was only when he saw the wing on the carpet that he knew what it was that didn't go down so well.

So when I saw the pile of bird feathers on his office floor, I knew to ask for the story. He'd been sitting in the living room when he saw 'Pants sit up and stare hard, then streak into his office. He followed her as she dashed into the bathroom: a young bird (sparrow, I'd guess from the evidence pile) had indulged its curiosity about the partially open window, and had gotten trapped in the bathroom. It fluttered near the top of the window, looking for the way out, then dipped down to explore the bottom of the glass.

As soon as it dipped down Vivani slapped it to the wall, clapped her paws together, and had it in her mouth. Since she knows what we two-leggeds do with birds, she jetted past Greg's legs, out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, with Greg thinking Oh, no! Not under the bed! But it was only a diversionary tactic as her real goal was the open bedroom window. She was out it in a flash, and that was the last he saw of the bird, or of Vivani for several hours.

Mmm, good eating.

The face of an angel, the maw of a demon. Even if it is pink.

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