#Picathecat on her back, her head hanging over the edge of the couch... and then a strange meow.
Writhes and dangles over the edge more. Suddenly, from that angle she sees *birds* horrible birds! (At the bird feeder in the window.)
Whiskers twitch.
In defiance of all logic and laws of physics she launches herself in a backwards arc landing next to the couch on her four little soft paws now facing the "horrible birds" (during this her head was stationary like a door hinge) she's remarkable.
Then, as if the field of the plausible were catching up to her, she just ... capsized ... for no reason from a standing position. Like a boat struck by a rouge gravity wave. Paws splayed.
She bounces under the table, crawling upside-down: gravity reversed, face a rictus of fascinated greed.
She then jumps at the birds twisting 180 in the air, like an athlete or a very fancy fishing lure, like a male ballet dancer ... only to have her face smack the window.
The doves fly away cooing, laughing.
You are absolutely correct. There is NOTHING funny about this. It was a precious moment of predatory athleticism and it was very rude of the birds to be on the other side of the glass.
myrmepropagandist
Andrew Deacon
John Maxwell