Pierre the Tiger

Pierre the Tiger

Sometimes I wish I had the courage (or perhaps foolhardiness?) of my cat.  Take Pierre, for example.  A few days ago, hubby called me to the windows to watch Pierre's antics.  Pierre was outside, jaunting through the garden and exploring the new area we planted.  I stood by the windows and watched. I could barely see his chubby gray self, hunkered down among the day lilies.  His body was in that "I'm about to pounce" pose that any cat owner easily recognizes. He'd seen something, and he was on the hunt.  He crouched low and suddenly sprang into the air.  But what was he trying to catch? A squirrel!  The squirrel darted up the pine tree, then stopped midway, chattering and gnashing his teeth. Did that deter Pierre? No, of course not.  Now he was trying to leap up the tree, but he's not a climber and so the match ended with a draw. The squirrel, of course, darted up the tree and crossed over to the next pine tree, and in the blink of an eye was gone. Not so my tough cat.  He parked himself at the base of the pine tree and waited, until finally I had to go outside, pick him up, and carry him in, protesting all the way.  To this day, Pierre is probably thinking, "If it wasn't for my meddling Mommy, I could have HAD that squirrel!"