He stalks and low crawls across the space.
Eyes wide and focused upon his prey,
a millions years of instincts throbbing
through his brain and sleek body.
His toes and claws flex with the coiled
anticipation of a hunter predator.

In a sudden burst of energy and blinding
speed he launches his attack, at the last
moment I pull up on the bait and he springs
three feet high into the air front claws extended!
For the next fifteen minutes the three month
old still a kitten, and I engage in our twice a
day ritual dance, a sparing inspired and facilitated
by a little feathered stuffed toy blue bird on a sting,
and I the puppet master.

His resolve is limitless, he will never quit, in
pursuit he springs and jumps circles in mid
air until I eventually end the affair for his own
good, when he begins to pant mouth open.
Then it is cat nap time. Sometimes for us both.