THE BEST VIEW: From the “Catbird Seat”

by Norma Best Boucher

My cat Olivia loves to bird watch.

In her wild outside cat days, I suppose she hunted a few birds, but she was more content catching lizards and snakes that didn’t take off into the air in the middle of the chase. I found many heads of these dead reptiles at my back door…but never a bird.

Now, in her elder years, she sits for hours on the screened-in porch and watches the myriad of feathered friends as they flit and feed at the large hanging bird feeder.

Many of the same birds return daily. Some birds guard as a mate feeds. Other birds wait patiently for their turn, while others squeeze in to be the first to snatch the best seeds.

Olivia lies silently on the sill watching them, their colors and their lives.

The bird feeder is perched from a tree on a new three-foot metal holder that is meant to deter squirrels and raccoons. The previous holder was too short. Squirrels hung from the feeder and flicked seed from the feeding holes, and raccoons tried to lift the feeder off the bracket.

Now the weight of the full feeder is too much for the raccoons to lift, but the tenacious thieves never give up trying. While a squirrel or raccoon tries to outsmart the feeder, other squirrels and raccoons congregate under the feeder to grab the seeds as they fall to the ground.

There is usually a frenzy. Olivia loves watching these antics…so do I.

I remember Olivia as a feral kitten. Her innocent playfulness made me smile and laugh with enjoyment.

I’d yell, “Kitty, Kitty,” and wave a white paper towel letting her know that I had treats for her. She’d be sweet with me but was a fighter with feline trespassers and protected her territory with ruthless behavior.

Later, too old to win her fights and blind in one eye, she finally relented and became a house cat guarding her new territory from unseen marauders from her perch on the bed.

Today, Olivia, at age 18, sits on the sill in the screened in porch and watches safely the feral life she once enjoyed. We no longer play as we did, but she can be seen sometimes racing through the rooms chasing imaginary foes.

She is never very far from me, sitting with me, touching me lightly with her tail, or just nestling close to me as I sleep.

“A senior citizen,” the young vet calls her.

From my own catbird seat, I smile.

You see, we have grown older – together…Olivia and I.