Swoop! Swish! Flap, flap, flap. Caw! Caw! Caw!
A mass of black feathers fell swiftly from the cloudless sky, then righted itself on a high clothes line. A pair of arrogant beady eyes peered down at a frustrated long-haired orange tabby cat. “Ta-ta! You can’t get me!“ strutted the back bird, cawing proudly. Chevy, on the grass, glowered at him, bristling his hairs. The raven swooped down teasingly again. Chevy leaped high into the air, but completely missed the feathered show-off. Chevy, dejected, hissed angrily at the proud, triumphant bird perched on the other side of the clothesline.
A lonely raven called in the distance. Chevy’s antagonist tilted his shiny head intently. “Na,” he thought, “This is way too fun. I’ll leave this ole’ catty soon enough.” With another boasting caw, the bird swerved down at an angle from the air—but not too quick for determined Chevy. This time, the bird lost five feathers from his once handsome right wing. Chevy did a little two-step—or rather, a little four step—while Mr. Raven screeched at the victorious feline. Chevy crouched again, waiting. The bird swooped for the last time, losing another five feathers to Chevy’s lightning paws and strong, quick teeth. He flew away, angry, annoyed, but dignified.
Chevy danced a little again.
“Hey, this is a pretty good ending to such a nice day,” Chevy thought, as he stretched himself in the afternoon sun, “I caught a rat behind the rain barrel, a mother mouse in the barn, and now I almost caught a real, live raven! Yay!
Great job, Chevy boy—and farewell! Happy adventures!