Intruder

The crashing noise was unexpected and startling. It came from the direction of my deck. My brain quickly analyzed the possibilities. The fierce wind. A rogue squirrel. A broken bird feeder. A cat burglar. All seemed possible.

All were incorrect. One was almost accurate. No burglar, just a cat. A beautiful apricot and cream colored feline had knocked over my tray of bird seed. I imagine that she had miscalculated a leap for a little cheeper snacking on an overhead bird feeder. By the time I reached the patio door, she was doing what all cats do when they are caught in an act of malfeasance, sauntering nonchalantly away as if everything that happened was planned and perfectly normal. End of story.

I should be angry at the marauding tabby, but I am not. Of course, I am not happy about the upset tray of bird seed. And I would rather not have my bird feeding station become the Royal Buffet for cats and other perpetrators. But, cats are cats, birds are birds and people are stupid when they try to take sides. Tempting birds to visit my deck will inevitably tantalize other lovers of birds and seed, some with four paws.

Every day I watch a few portly squirrels munch their way through freshly stocked seeds. It is not my intent to feed them but investing time and money on dubious methods of resistance makes little sense. Their stubby little paws share space with the blunt beaks of their feathered neighbors. Selective feeding may work for zoos but not so much for unfenced spaces.

Growing up on a farm hammered the laws of nature home for me. We loved our cats, but we respected their place in the food chain. Mice and other vermin were fair game on most days and so was a favorite pet bird one disastrous afternoon. (Sorry about that, little sis.) We also knew that on any given day, our favorite cat might not return, a possible victim of a larger carnivore or a blundered attempt at jumping over a barbed wire fence. Not pretty. Just real.

As I watch my bird feeding station, I am reminded that it is not always wise to rewrite the scripts of nature. The unadorned, ubiquitous house sparrow is just as hungry for bird seed as is the brilliantly beautiful cardinal. The nose crinkling bunny rabbit is as interested in the tender shoots of garden beans as I am. The neighborhood cat is programmed to stalk and hunt. The chatty squirrels stuff their chubby cheeks in fear of lean days ahead. The sharp sighted hawk circles our backyards in search of bird, mammal or reptile.

And I know that a spilled pan of bird seed is just a sign of nature's bounty. Enjoy the goodness.