Wet grass

Yetismith

June 13

Lying around in wet grass is not something I am inclined to do, yet there I was at 8 o'clock this morning, having abandoned a sink full of dishes.

The hummingbird feeder had caught my eye and I decided to refresh it while I had it in mind.

Armed with my little kit, I went out to the porch.

Opening up the feeder I splashed water over it and began the cleaning ritual.

But there was an interruption.

Let me explain...

Having finished my blog yesterday afternoon, I went out to enjoy the brilliant afternoon that had materialised.

After noticing the Sweet Williams struggling for space on a weed-infested slope, I had climbed behind the buddleia and dispatched some of the invasives, all the while mindful that creatures have their homes in and among them.

It's a delicate balance, keeping everyone alive and happy. One can only try.

Because I had cleared the area out, yesterday I spotted another batch of the Sweet Williams and clambered over to take pictures with my iPhone.

The only camera I can depend on, currently.

Last night I was so tempted to hurl one of my uncooperative devices at a wall.

My frustration was extreme.

Not long after, as I stood cutting carrots by the hedge, I heard a faint mew.

Catbird, I thought. But it came again.

Definitely not a catbird.

Some of our cats had been out for a walk earlier but they had gone back in.

"Mew"

The windows were closed and it was not a familiar voice, but stray cats don't normally mew in this friendly-sounding manner.

It wasn't Nibbs.

Shy mews are not his style.

He just arrives.

(He came for early breakfast this morning.)

Sure enough, I saw movement in the hedge and what looked like a grey cat. I stayed quiet but it was obviously intimidated, so I carried on completing my rounds.

Then after supper, it was up under the apple tree, but I was lucky to catch a single shot that was in focus.

Hence my frustration.

As we watched, the cat boldly marched down to the patio where it encountered the skunk that really got its back up. Fortunately things did not escalate.

Later the cat met up with the elderly beat-up raccoon which was equally unimpressed.

We got the feeling that this cat had not encountered wild animals before. She had the air of a young cat out in the world for the first time.

Which was a bit worrisome.

But how could we protect it?

It came as far as looking through the glass storm door, but the moment it caught sight of me, it fled.

It trotted off into the woods, up the hill.

This morning I wandered out as usual and soon a fox was eating the peanuts I'd put out for the birds.

A cute photograph I took of them looking outraged, - out-of-focus 😦

So I sighed and went for my own breakfast, which brings us a very long way around to 8 o'clock, when I was lying in the wet grass.

As I was washing the hummingbird feeder, there was that little mew again, but this time it was bolder.

It was the sort of mew you get from a cat that is pleased to see you.

It emerged from the hedge.

Last night we'd had the briefest view, but there was something so familiar in that little face.

Lucy, but also other fondly-remembered cats.

As well as Willow, who was the same shape and age when she came to me in much this way, although Willow never hesitated for a single moment.

Grant was watching from a window and passed me out some food. I put it out by the hedge and it was gone in 30 seconds flat.

Whether the cat was still hungry or wanted to be friends I can't say, but a second bowl was handed out.

"Put it down near you."

I was instructed, as if I've never befriended a cat before.

As you can see, it seems I wasn't that scary.

When it was done with that bowlful, the cat continued to approach, in ever-decreasing circles.

Perhaps, I thought, if I got down on the ground I would be less threatening.

Which is why I was lying on wet grass at 8 o'clock.

We didn't quite make a connection. Grant had to go out and the car sounds scared it off. For now.

If we get hold of it, we'll take it to the vet to see if it is chipped. If it's not we'll take care of the recommended shots, etc and so forth.

"Oh yes? And what else?"

It's a lovely-looking cat and if it wants to live here, I couldn't possibly say no but if there are behaviour changes after a reduction in numbers....

There would be problems, but none so great I would ever turn an animal away.