This morning I was treated to the sight of an unusual game of tag. I looked out the window to see one of the resident squirrels scooting up one of our oaks at the rate of no man’s business. Not far behind it was our black kitten. The squirrel would pause, flip that bushy tail in Tornado’s direction, and then, as the feline marauder actually drew close, scamper higher so that it was always just barely out of reach. I suspect the translation from the rodentish was “nyah, nyah, you can’t catch me.” The end result was a kitten who ended up much further up that tree than she usually does.
So she tried to climb down, and as usual when she’s in that tree, she gave up when she got in reach of the roof. And it was from the roof that I rescued her. Oh, the squirrel? He climbed back down and sat just above her head, still chattering, and taunted her inability to catch him.