Day 13

Human Beings are one of the most self-absorbed species on this planet, and I state this with all due respect. They are ignorant of the natural hierarchy of living beings unless, of course, said living being directly affects the human. The explanation for this fact is simple and direct: humans have no predators, and thus are completely oblivious to the dangers that lurk about other living species every single day.

Why am I waxing on about predation? Because in order to understand the utter depth of my worst fears over the past twelve hours, you need to know and accept this one fact: the Felus catus is the mortal enemy of the Phoenicopterus ruber. This relationship has been true since the beginning of time. Ancient ancestors of the Felus were known to hunt my species as evidenced by cave drawings discovered recently in the cave of Lascaux, which drawings are reproduced below:

I tell you this so you can begin to understand the abject fear that gripped my chest when I heard Mr. Kenn utter these words upon entering his home:

"Miss Kitty! Where are you? Come and meet your new friend!"

Slinking out from behind a hideous harvest gold and avocado green plaid chaise that could only have been an Ethan Allen reject from the mid 1970's, Miss Kitty took one look at me and, I swear, she smiled. She licked her lips slowly and languorously, as if mind-torturing her intended prey was part of the fun of the hunt.

Miss Kitty, being a crafty and sly beast, pretended to welcome me to her home. She approached me on little cat paws, gently rubbing my feathers with her fur. She made small growling noises which Mr. Kenn called purring but I knew to be hunger growls.

You may be asking, rightly so, how is it that Ramon is such an expert on the relationship between cats and birds? I'll tell you. When I was researching my post doctoral thesis at the University of Chicago, I was asked by the American Bird Conservancy to consult on the writing of "Domestic Cat Predation On Birds and Other Wildlife," an important, if not earth shattering, oeuvre. Although I reproduce the citation here ( http://www.abcbirds.org/abcprograms/policy/cats/materials/predation.pdf), you need only to understand this immutable fact: Cats Kill Birds.

In the instant that Mr. Kenn turned his back, Miss Kitty took the opportunity to attack. Fortunately, her first strike only grazed my beak, which thankfully is as hard as granite due to my fastidious grooming habits. However, before she could complete her second strike, Mr. Kenn turned back around and said to me, "Well, Mr. Flamingo, would ya like to see your new home?"

(I assumed he was talking to me even though he addressed me improperly.) Without waiting for my response, he picked me up and escorted me out the front door.

My friends, you will have to wait until tomorrow to read the rest of this saga, for after today's travails, I am physically and emotionally spent. I will tell you this, though: Miss Kitty, evidently, is an indoor cat, and so, at least for tonight, I will remain,

Ramon the Flamingo