The Robin

It snowed heavily over the weekend, and outdoors became a veritable winter wonderland. For the cats, it was a great hunting opportunity, as the garden birds were both easily visible and stupefied by the cold.

It probably wasn’t a good idea for Bert to scatter breadcrumbs right outside the glass double doors. It’s charming to see the robin come so close to the door for its feast, but it was also close enough to make the cats acutely aware of the birds’ presence, or availability.

So, when I spotted Woody carrying a limp body in his mouth, my first fear was for the robin. But there appeared to be a long, dark dangler hanging from his jaw. A young rat. That would be all right, better than killing one of Bert’s robins.

Then Hannah’s wee dog Chico spotted it. Chico likes to bullyWoody and steal his kills. He got outside and took the little dead thing. I pulled wellies on and went out into the snowy garden to take the creature off him. It wasn’t easy persuading him to give it up. And when I did, I saw that the dangly thing wasn’t a rat’s tail. It was a long, limp bird’s leg. A robin. All bedraggled, yet unbloodied. Did Woody kill it? Or did he find it after it had perished? It might have died from the cold. I decided not to mention it to Bert and put it in the bin.

Bert was away when all this occurred, driving Hannah to work. When he got home, he went straight to the cats, both standing to attention and looking for their breakfast. He petted and stroked them both. It is funny to think how he used to dislike cats. Harry de Cat changed his mind, then Holly. He adored Holly. Big Fat Fred was another favourite. All those cats are gone now, but Bert still has a lot of time for Pippin and Woody, especially Pippin.

I was wondering why I feel less uneasy when cats kill rats rather than robins. Surely rats have as much right to existence as robins. But rats have such a bad reputation, disease, dirt and all that. That’s not entirely fair, for the wee birdies are pretty disease-ridden too, and when our cats eat them, they can pick up parasitic pests. Despite their worms and mites, I still prefer robins, wrens and goldfinches to rodents. Apart from shrew mice*. It’s so sad when the cats get them, for they are so sweet and cute, with those little pointed snouts. Adorable. Yet it feels wrong to make the distinction. Who knows where that might lead one?

Woody and Chico

Happy to report that the robin Bert was feeding by the door has survived another day. The feeding station has been moved further away.

*Not rodents, although cats don't make a distinction. They are one of the most common mammals in the British Isles.