Guinea Pigs

Sunday 9.32am

Still watching guinea pigs but looking around I discover that I am not alone. The cats are watching them as well. So I watch the cats. Now anybody who knows me will know that I love cats. But domesticated as they are I never forget that, not so deep inside, they are wild animals. I can see it now.

Two minutes ago there was a cat walking towards me, all erect tail and smiley chirpy noises, I am part of her family after all. Then a guinea pig moved and the cat changed instantly. She froze, eyes focused intently on the movement. Now her tail slowly drops as her body sinks to the ground, ears flick this way and that in response to other noises, but her eyes remain fixed to the movement in the cage. The cat moves closer, running quick and low across the grass before stopping dead again. She moves forward again, slowly raising one paw at a time and gently putting it down, testing the ground with each step, before slowly transferring her weight. The guinea pig senses something is up, she stops and listens, head turned slightly. The cat stops dead again, waits. Waits. The guinea pig drops her head and resumes munching grass. The cat shuffles her back legs, once, twice, positioning her feet firmly for a good launch, she is going to pounce. But the guinea pig hasn’t forgotten, is still listening and with a nod up of her head and a warbly squeak she is suddenly off – shooting under cover to safety.

The cat continues watching for a few seconds and then visibly relaxes, all that tension draining down into the ground as she sit up and looks around again.

I am reading Lion Boy to my youngest at bed time at the moment. I have read it before myself but am really enjoying reading it again, the descriptions of the lions, their behaviour and the wildness they contain are just beautifull.