This morning I was sitting on the couch with the boys. They were watching Cat TV and I was eating my pre-bedtime toasted triple decker peanut butter and jelly sammie. (Don't ask - I've just found it to be the best "supper" for day sleeping.)
The flock of house sparrows that live under my house began a very loud chatter. I turned to look, thinking a neighbor's cat might be out there, but didn't see anything. All fell quiet and I returned to my sammie.
Then came a very hard WHAM on the large window. Loki went up and off the end of the couch in a panic. I managed not to choke on a chunk of sammie and turned around just in time to see either a falcon or a small hawk sitting, stunned (or pissed) on the sidewalk. By the time I extracted my poor tired nursey toes from the massager, he had flown away.
Poor Loki was freaked out. I can't blame him. A hawk just tried to kill him. Add that to the list of why I don't let my cats go outside. I'd heard stories of some eagles in a neighborhood on James Island attacking and carrying off cats in recent years, most likely due to over development and the loss of natural prey.
I watch the wildlife around here and this is the second time I've seen this hawk/falcon, the first time he chased a brown thrasher into the hedge and then sat at the end of my driveway for a few minutes. Maybe he is a youngster and isn't that skilled at hunting yet. Maybe that's why only one squirrel showed up for the pile of peanuts I left under the oak tree a few days ago.
Loki sez: I told you they were out to get me!