This squirrel jumped up on the window sill the other day. Carla (one of our cats) was utterly enthralled. The squirrel didn’t seem to mind her staring and me photographing. Perhaps it was thinking “This is *double glazed* innit? You ain’t getting through that in a hurry my friends”. Or perhaps it couldn’t smell us so assumed we weren’t real. Or all it could see was a reflection of itself.
It flicked around long enough for me to get a few snaps, but not long enough for me to properly adjust aperture, white balance, shutter speed, ISO etc. More photos here.
John Leach is a human being living in Leeds, UK.
December 1st, 2005 at 18:33
Carla has been wanting to see one of these little things up close and personal for years: she sees tails flitting past from time to time and chirps but doesn’t do it anything about it.
She’s a clever little cat (… stop laughing, John) so I’m sure she spent the time it was on the window sill examining it for Deathstar-esque weak spots and she’ll use that to bring down her prey. Next time she sees it slinking around looking for a snickers bar, she’ll slide down low and creep forward. It’ll reach the trap she set in advance – a peanut lodged in a hole – and she’ll watch as it tries (in vain) to remove the peanut. She’ll slowly slink closer, hiding behind the natural barriers, until eventually, she is just inches away from it. If she listens closely (and with those ears, she has no choice), she’ll hear it breathing heavily as it continues pulling at the peanut. She’ll wait until it tires itself out a bit then will crouch into a pouncing position. Then the careful planned misdirection (her brother flicking the cat flap on the other side of the garden) will cause the squirrel to be distracted so it will miss her starting to pounce. Her legs will tense and then with strength you can only imagine unless your sleeping form has been used as a springboard for her to jump onto the top of the wardrobe, she’ll leap through the air and land on the stunned squirrel. She’ll grab it firmly with her front paws and watch the horror on its face as it realises it’s been duped by the most intelligent cat on the planet. She’ll dig her claws in deeper until it starts to squeal then, remembering her past in the RSPCA, she will refrain from being any crueler and just rip its head off so that it doesn’t feel a thing. She’ll sit there, as the blood drains from its little lifeless body, and flick it around between her paws until it goes cold. Then she’ll leave it on the doorstep as a present/future photography project, for her feeding units. When they come home, they’ll praise her for being so clever (well, that’s clearly what they mean when they jump up and down going “ugh! ugh!”) and give her treats of meat offcuts and tuna. She will have conquered the squirrel species once and for all, ha ha!
Or.. OR.. she’ll spend all day asleep on the sofa instead.
December 2nd, 2005 at 11:38
[...] 2) Carla met a squirrel on Wednesday and John photographed it. So cute. [...]
August 13th, 2006 at 20:18
Great picture. I’m a sucker for cat pix of all sorts, but it’s rare to see one that emphasizes the coolness over the cuteness.
Not that there’s anything wrong with cuteness.
I got to this blog from the ELER pages. A monumentally happy hour of surfing.
Keep ‘em all coming, the words, the comics, the pictures . . .