Close Encounters

No not with car drivers, for once, but with an altogether more ferocious creature. There I was, cycling back from the shop, having already avoided a loose cow being lured back into its field by the farmer with a bale of hay and enjoying the return of the non-rain, when I heard a rustle in the hedgerow ahead. Too quick for me to take evasive action, I just had time to register what was going on as the animal crouched and then sprang in a flurry of black-and-white fur.

I was being pounced on. By a cat*. Fortunately for me (and it) I was in fact going faster than it had anticipated – clearly the advent of the shiny new tarmac had thrown out its calculations and foiled an ambush weeks in the planning.

Lord knows what it thought it was going to do with me if it had actually caught me – feast on my carcase for a week? Stealthe pint of milk in my bag? Take me home and use me as captive domestic staff as its own humans were no longer coming up to scratch? – but after this series of posts, I suppose it was only a matter of time.

Dogs next. And there’s one in a farm I pass through that particularly wants my guts.

* ‘You really do go slowly, don’t you?’ said the other half when I told him this

10 Responses to Close Encounters

  1. john says:

    must be the off spring of one of those scottish wild cats.
    John

  2. maybe it was a semi domesticated Haggis

  3. Moobs says:

    Stop wearing the sparrow pheremones

  4. disgruntled says:

    John & LLD – it looked like an ordinary old moggie to me, but what do I know? I am a townie after all
    Moobs – but then how would I remain so chirpy?

  5. Ha! I love it when cats do that pouncing on inappropriately large prey that’s immediately followed by scampering away with their tails doing that half-fluffed up droop.

    You should look on the bright side of this encounter – at least it wasn’t a squirrel.

  6. bikinginla says:

    Funny, I read black and white, and a cat was the last thing I was thinking…or don’t you have skunks in Scotland?

  7. Well, thats clever how those Haggi can blend in with their surroundings.

    You have to be really careful, you see, this is the start of the Haggi-runt, AKA the breeding season, so the wild Haggi will come in more regular contact with humans, like in your case. The tail tail sign tends to be that the male haggi will run only in a counter clock wise direction, this is mainly due to habit, formed over countless decades for running in the hills and mountains, so their legs and sgorter on one side that the other. In order to attaract a mate, teh Haggi matinf call often get mistaken for a domesticated feline meow, however listen carefully and you will hear the Scotish cry.

    finally the hunting season for mature Haggi starts at the end of November and runs until 24th January. Haggi are best caught using a trap, and only haggi over 14 lbs are allowed to be culled, as under this weight the haggi is either an infant or a breeding female, a Haggett.

    I hope this helps.

  8. Oh and please ignore the spelling, seems I’m having a man moment.

  9. disgruntled says:

    Karl – we only have red squirrels here, which are far too cute and fluffy to be anything but adorable
    Bikinginla – no skunks, thankfully, whatever Walt Disney may have implied in Bambi. No bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover either, now I come to think of it
    LLD – yes that’s clear as mud now, thanks

  10. Glad I was able to help, even if I was suffering dyslexic fingers at the time.

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