He was big. A huge cat.
With huge cheek shields…
Feral and untouchable,
Looking like British gentlemen mobster in his soft grey suit and white gloves.
Somehow he had been given the innocuous name of Mittens …
(Bullies come in all shapes, and names)
He scaled the tree with alacrity,
Possibly seeking the squirrel nest at the top?
But was thwarted by the smallest of cats,
A little tabby girl, climbed up after him,
Having had enough of his swaggering ways in the yard,
She chased him out on a limb…
And then simply curled up in the crook of the tree to nap,
As the squirrels evacuated across the canopy.
Sometimes we can change the course of the day
Or a life
by simply taking a nap at the right place and time.