Seeing a cat enjoying the great outdoors in warm spring sunshine is a feast for the eyes. Cats are hedonists, existing for the pleasure of feeling a breeze stirring their fur, relaxing in a bit of shade after a long morning stroll through the garden. But look closer at dear little Fluffy. Her body appears at ease as she sits beneath a young box elder amid a host of dandelions. Her eyes are ever vigilant, on guard for a possible attacker, or the sudden appearance of her next meal.
Moments after snapping this picture I watched in horror as Fluffy instantly metamorphosed from peaceful, loveable kitty to savage primeval hunter, in three leaps taking down a beautiful Hermit Thrush. The ill-fated thrush thus joined the ranks of millions of songbirds killed by cats every year in North America. If Fluffy had been an indoor cat, watching the birds from a sun-filled window sill, perhaps the thrush might have gone on to raise a brood or two of little thrushes. But then I would not have had the opportunity to "capture" a memory of a cat in the garden.