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Mar 19
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.
The Christmas gift kitten from
my children, bringing joy and
laughter long after the Holladay
event. My old dog loves the little
fellow too. I penned this for my
grandson Cooper as he loves to
watch that cat chasing and jumping
for that bird toy too.
Written by
Stephen E Yocum  M/North Western Oregon
(M/North Western Oregon)   
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