The grey feathered pigeons sat on the tree branch triumphantly. They smugged down at the black cat, forlorn in his defeat of being too slow to pounce.
Only last week the black bastard caught a brother of theirs between his merciless claws, for no reason other than sport. Brother was left squealing on the floor, but the less than dim-witted birds gave it no thought.
The cat, which we know as Oscar although he only responds to calls of food, looked up at his prey hopelessly. As long as the fat stupid birds had the power of flight, he would be undone.
Suddenly, as if a prayer had been answered from the old Pharaoah god-cats of Egypt, Oscar took flight! He was flying, soaring towards the tree with delight. The birds attempted a scatter, some dumbstruck in this four legged animals abilities.
A smile, if cats have that expression, came to his face. He was preparing to land on his prey, no one could escape his grasp with this power!
"Good boy, Oscar", one of the pigeons said. The voice was familiar. Human, definitley. The taller one with the loud voice.
Still flying through the air, the cats eyes slowly opened. Despair. He was flying, if we would call being in a giants arms flying.
His human owner, although to Oscar servant would be more appropiate, was carrying him down the stairs. Angry at his being awoke at such an inopportune moment, Oscar waited for the stairs to finish.
He knew his way around this human-cage well enough. Familiar in his haunts, as his human carrier swung around, he leapt freely from his arms and headed for the escape-hole, willing to return only under promise of food or warmth.
Outside, less than a minute later, the pigeons were staring down at the predator.
Sulkenly, our inteprid canine hero returned indoors, as a creature of habit, convinced that food would be forthcoming.
He leapt up at the table, normally to be brushed softly back on the floor. Always trying his luck, hopeful the man-food they shared would be handed to him.
A scornful man greeted him there.
