We feed birds. In the winter we have a bird feeder that we fill with seeds, grains, cracked corn and things the bird books say birds love yet never seem to eat. It provides us with a little joy at seeing the avian life come to our back yard to dine and live in this most harsh of seasons.
In the summer we still put out food but as most of the birds we have seem to prefer to feed on the ground, the feeder, although filled with food, is mostly ignored except for the bits that have fallen to the ground where the doves, the wrens, the thrushes, the yellow thrushes we call canaries, blue jays and cardinals all gather. And we have cats. Two of them. One, the alpha male concerns himself with maintaining the integrity of his territory, patrolling the yards of the neighbourhood to keep other cats in their places. He also doesn't see very well so hunting for him is an exercise in futility. Something he has figured out. The other one, although well fed, overly fed in fact, is the typical hunter/killer feline. When something in the yard moves he goes into the hunter/killer cat pose, low crouch, tail twitching, slinking towards the prey in short bursts of stealth. Luckily for the birds his girth means he is not the most athletic of animals and so we have only once seen a victim of his skill. Both mice and moles seem to be an easier catch as they show up mornings on our lawn, stiff and inert, waiting for the crows to come and carry them off.
We have morning doves that perch on the wires or the fence and survey the territory, coming in to feed or strut and then taking off with that squeaky wing sound as though they are in need of a good oiling. They are attractive birds, feminine looking as though they all are the pretty but vacuous members of the bird world.
As I said, we like these birds, wish them no harm but know that the presence of the hunter/killer cat no matter what his skill level, is a threat to their lives. So for the summer we put the food inside the fence that surrounds our swimming pool. This allows them safe eating on the ground, safe from the cats and allows the social, hierarchical fights of the bird world to be carried out uninterrupted.
Now that we are in the latter part of summer we have one dove that comes each evening to the cache of food on the ground, pecks around a bit but mostly just sits on the warm concrete and stares out over the pool. He hunkers down, his soft breast resting on the ground, gazing over the water and seems to be lost in thought or reverie. Other birds sing their evening songs from the trees, some small birds flit to the feed to peck around, stocking up for the night ahead but he mostly ignores them. He just sits and stares. When this first began the hunter/killer went into high alert. He slinked down from the deck, kept low to the ground, moving furtively until he was positioned behind the dove and hidden by the barbecue. Then in the moment of attack his hind quarters twitched, he raised his haunches and sped towards the dove. He may have had the unsuspecting bird except for the chain link fence between the two of them. At full speed he made for the bird and then, then ran head long into the fence. It's a wonder he didn't break his fool neck. The startled dove flew off in a moment of panic as the slightly dazed and very disappointed cat watched it go. This replayed itself the next evening. The wary dove, the hunter/killer cat, the stealth, the rush to kill, the chain link fence and the disappointment. Now the bird and the cat had both figured out their advantages and disadvantages. A Mexican standoff of sorts in the cat/bird world.
The dove still comes most evenings to rest, perhaps to compose poetry in its head and to be calmed by the reflecting waters of the pool. The cat still stalks but now just creeps as close as it can and sits and watches the dove. The dove, aware of the cat is mostly nonplussed by this traditional threat and so is free to enjoy his evening dreams. The standoff continues with the dove secure inside the fence and the cat dreaming of it not being there.