Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Hazards of a Writer's Life

Drifting off to sleep last night, letting the current predicament of my characters run through my head, when I'm disturbed by the sound of something trampling up my front porch. Following the cats down the steps, I hear the tell-tale sounds of the bird feeder banging against the window.

-That rascally squirrel has finally figured out the trick- I think to myself.

You see, the squirrel must first leap onto the roof, then scale down the length of string holding the bird feeder in front of the window in order to maximize the bird watching activity for the cats. Last winter's squirrel figured it out. This year's squirrel isn't quite so bright. I've been watching him struggle with this tempting puzzle for weeks. I was sort of proud of him, even if it was 1:00 am.

Downstairs, the cat is perched in her usual place, staring curiously out the window. I peer into the darkness, failing to see the squirrel. So, I flick on the porch light...only to find that there is no squirrel but a bear standing nearly as tall as myself, with his paws on my front window, feasting on sunflower seeds and staring right at me.

He was initially startled and tramped back off the porch. But if there's one thing you can count on about the black bears around these parts, they won't give up on grub. Several minutes later, he was back. This time he allowed the Missus and I to watch, paying little or no attention to us. Standing less the a few feet away, with only a thin piece of pawed-at glass separating us as he chowed down. He left when he was done, only to come back an hour later just to make sure we didn't leave more food out for him.

It was worth the lack of sleep. Though I surely wonder what the cat had in mind as she watched? What was her plan?

1 comment:

  1. Big bird, no trouble for any decent cat. Watch out mr bear,