It's 5:47 AM. I've been awake since 5:00 AM because that's when breakfast SHOULD happen, but Mom and Dad are still pretending to be asleep. Fine. I'll station myself at the window like I do every morning, maintaining my important surveillance duties.
And then.
THEN.
This robin — and I need you to understand, it's the SAME robin, I recognize him — lands on the tree branch directly outside MY window. Not Cosmo's window. MY window. The one I claimed 847 days ago (yes, I've been counting).
The First Offense
He just sits there. Staring. At ME. Like he owns the place. Like he pays rent here. I've seen the audacity of squirrels, the entitlement of the neighbor's cat, but this? This is next level.
I do what any reasonable cat would do: I chirp. You know the chirp. That hunting chirp that sounds like I'm trying to communicate in morse code. It's supposed to be intimidating. It's supposed to say "I see you, and given different circumstances (like if this window wasn't here), we'd be having a very different conversation."
Does the robin care? Does the robin show even a MODICUM of respect?
No.
He chirps back.
Every. Single. Morning.
This has been going on for THREE WEEKS. Same robin. Same tree. Same window. Same disrespectful attitude. Cosmo thinks I'm overreacting, but Cosmo also thinks that the red dot we chase is a real entity that disappears into another dimension, so his judgment is questionable at best.
I've tried different strategies:
- Ignoring him completely (he stays longer)
- Intense staring (he preens his feathers, clearly unbothered)
- The aforementioned chirping (he chirps back, the nerve)
- Pawing at the window (leaves smudges, Mom gets annoyed, robin wins)
- Recruiting Cosmo for backup intimidation (Cosmo just wants to know if it's breakfast time)
A Theory
I think he knows the window is there. I think he KNOWS I can't get to him. This isn't random. This is calculated. This is psychological warfare.
And you know what the worst part is? Mom thinks it's "cute" that I'm "making a friend." A FRIEND. This isn't friendship. This is a territorial dispute. This is a daily reminder that despite my superior intellect, opposable thumbs would really help my situation right now.
Tomorrow's Plan
I'm going to try a new approach. I'm going to pretend I don't care. I'm going to sit with my back to the window when he arrives. Let HIM wonder what I'm up to. Let HIM feel the uncertainty.
(But I'll position my tail so I can still monitor his movements peripherally. I'm not an amateur.)
Will report back tomorrow. Or later today, when he inevitably shows up again at dawn, uninvited and unwelcome at MY window.
— Gigi
Written at 3:42 AM while everyone sleeps
The robin will be back in approximately 1 hour and 18 minutes
