They flock for the seed that has been distributed on the yellow-green lawn. Ten pigeons pecking and picking at the lawn. Not such an abnormal sight until I noticed the cat. Darting eyes in a black and white face lying sedately on the stoop.
I expect him to pounce, grab one of the greedy gluttons and tear it limb-from-limb. The pigeons are oblivious. Is he waiting for the best time to make a move? Concerned that the others will converge in a desperate bid to save their comrade’s life? Maybe he is simply a voyeur on this feeding frenzy. Like me.
