On Saturday, in the span of three hours, I witnessed the following.
1. Out the front window. Pete laying in the grass stalking a squirrel. Pete was so still the squirrel didn't even know he was there. Eventually Pete moved and the squirrel became wise to his stalker.
2. Out the kitchen window. Pete throwing something in the air, batting it away, running to pick it up, and starting the game again. It was a small yellow and black bird.
3. While sitting in the yard, brushing Daisy. Something black comes flying across the top of the fence, into the stairwell to the cellar. Pete comes dashing through the gate, down the stairs. Black thing flies away. Pete blots up the stairs frantically looking around.
A flier for Petco and Iams cat food informed me that wild cats hunt up to ten times a day. They hunt small prey and snack all day and night.
I guess Pete really wants to be a wild cat.
Or, maybe not.
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