There Goes The Neighbourhood

I often wonder what our neighbours think of us. The families either side of us and opposite are good friends, the other neighbours are more of a nodding acquaintance. Those are the people that must shake their heads in puzzlement as we go about our fractured lives.

Case in point: this morning. The kids are on their way out the door for school when a loud squawking ensues. One of the cats has caught a bird. This is an event in itself, because that particular cat is normally filed under the heading of "useless".  Upon witnessing said bird and cat, Sid yells for help. Grady meanwhile makes a dive through the flower bed, flattening my lavender bushes, intent on a rescue mission. Rob leaves the house and joins the fray. The bird is creating a right commotion and Sid shouts out "Is it still alive?". Really ?  "Ah, no Sid, birds normally continue to squawk like that and flap their wings long after they are dead!"  Honestly, I used to have such high hopes for that girl.

By now the chase is on, the cat is in the lead, with the still screeching bird clamped firmly in his jaws, casting nervous glances over his shoulder as he weaves between the bushes. Grady is in hot pursuit, with my husband bringing up the rear, and around and around the front garden they go. Sid meanwhile, is motionless in the driveway, hands held up to her face, slack jawed with a stricken expression, a resemblance not unlike the Edvard Munch painting, "The Scream".  Despite their best efforts, the bird didn't make it. Not that it really stood much of a chance once the Keystone Cops were on the scene.

Last week it was a similar scene, same MO but different players. I had left the house in time to see the one cat that actually catches anything, intent on making a little chipmunk his next meal. Now I happen to like chipmunks, and was not going to tolerate such wanton death and destruction, so I did the only thing I could and screamed for Rob. To give him his due, he was out of the house in a flash, fearing the worst, (however, I'm not sure what that could be in my driveway at ten in the morning), and I start yelling staccato instructions that probably only he would understand "Charlie! Chipmunk! Stop Him!" And off we go.

Anyone witnessing our journey up and down the driveway, around the tree, through the rose garden and between the vehicles, would probably not have noticed the cat and the chipmunk hugging the ground, but our antics were certainly visible. I can just imagine the subsequent conversations go something like this;

"Saw that strange family down the road again today" 
"Oh yeah, what were they doing this time?" 
"The usual, chasing each other around the garden, yelling & screaming"
'Those damn kids are so unruly"
"Wasn't the kids this time, it was the parents".  

At least the chipmunk made it !