Tic Tac grooming in the sun. — ELLEN WHYTE
Spring has arrived! The sun is shining, the skies are blue and Tic Tac is meowing impatiently while I fumble with her harness.
It’s only 18°C and there is a breeze but now that we’ve acclimatised to England and become part polar bear, we consider it high summer.
Throughout the cold months, Tic Tac has occupied her sun shelf, a lovely warm space behind a thick window where she stretches out in the rays and keeps an eye on the garden.
She’s kept an eye on the doves that are nesting in the tree, the robins that visit, and the blackbirds that are living in the hedge over our wall, but it’s not the same as going out and about in person.
So when I picked up her harness earlier this week for our first walk of the year, Tic Tac purred so hard that she vibrated.
I opened the door and Tic Tac stood on the step, her pretty nose in the air, snuffing up the scents of spring.
Now, our girl is ace at seeing in the dark but her eyesight is not as good as it might be in bright sunlight. It always takes her a moment to adjust when she moves between shade and sun.
So, after a careful pause, we made straight for the flowerbed.
Back in October, we went overboard because we stuffed our small garden with 300 tulip and bluebell bulbs. They burst out in full a few weeks ago, but this was the first time it was warm enough for us to be out and enjoy them in person.
Tic Tac loved it. She nibbled the long grass and then danced through the jam-packed flowerbeds, totally ignoring the gorgeous blooms and focusing entirely on the buzzing bustling bugs.
As the slender flowers swayed, attracting butterflies, honey and bumble bees, Tic Tac stiffened and reached with busy paws.
She made a solid effort to catch them but with me subtly interfering, she had the joy of stalking without the reward of the catch.
Tic Tac loves her magnolia tree.
To her favourite tree
Having had her fill of chasing fat bee bottoms, Tic Tac made her way to her favourite tree: the magnolia. She loves scratching its firm fine trunk.
Also, when she does her white tiger act, the low branches rock, releasing clouds of perfume.
After Tic Tac sharpened her claws, she checked out the tree, looking for the doves. Thankfully, they were out. But as she hopped onto the driftwood bench, our resident male blackbird arrived.
He and his wife treat our place like a supermarket, flying in and out all day long, gathering sticks, worms and bugs.
Tic Tac has watched this pair all winter, so when she spotted the visitor, our girl’s eyes narrowed.
The bird spotted her, and he froze in place.
Strolling through the flower bed.
I am certain the little bird recognised Tic Tac and not just from seeing her at the windows. All winter I have dumped clumps of Inkie, Target and Tic Tac outside because cat hair is excellent for insulating nests.
So there he was, staring at the plush white fur in person. As Tic Tac stared, the little bird unleashed a raft of tweets and chucks, warning his mate that there was a big evil cat interloper in their garden.
Tic Tac may not speak blackbird but she knows an insult when she hears one. Our princess drew herself up in outrage and squawked back at him.
When the bird flapped his wings insolently, Tic Tac stood up and calculated distance, angle, trajectory and speed, determined to have a go at it.
However, it could not be done. The bench was too far away, even for our agile Tic Tac.
Accepting the inevitable, our princess parked her bum, quivering with rage. The bird knew it and he cheeped derisively.
And off he flew
On her sun shelf.
The standoff accepted, the two of them trash-talked at the tops of their voices for a solid two minutes. Then, with a loud shriek, he raised his wings, she raised her chin – and then he flew off, in a determinedly casual manner.
Tic Tac smoothed down her fur, jumped off the bench, and went inside. Thankfully, Inkie was waiting. Inkie is a bit jealous of Tic Tac’s walks but he is far too much of a scaredy-cat to go outside himself, so he lives vicariously.
Our junior boy snuffed her fur, eyes huge with admiration and licked her ears. Soothed, Tic Tac jumped up on her sun shelf.
She’s sitting there now, plotting her next move and fantasising about a future when the cheeky bird doesn’t get the worm, but a well-deserved pounce.
