Dear Diary, The other day was a perfect cat-in-the-tree day. I think they were having a gathering to discuss the loud, blue birds that we have flying about. Cat Balou was up there, and Orange Julius, Iggy, Baby Biscuit, Comfort, and even limping Butch. I was not invited. Thought about going up anyway, but instead I caught one of the loud, blue birds. In a flash I was encircled by Iggy, Orange Julius, and Lovey Bud. They followed me to the chicken fence, back to the small tin building, and around the big oak while I tried to protect my catch. Finally deciding my catch might be safer on the deck, I came up around the long walkway, looking over my right shoulder constantly to watch for the pack. Big mistake. My lady saw me when I passed in front of the big window. I froze in position when she came outside and started hollering at me. But she saw me even though I wasn't moving. It was the dang blue bird's fault that I was spotted. It wouldn't keep it's foot still, but slapped my face repeatedly with it's skinny little claws. She should have taken a picture of my moment of glory, but all she cared about was getting the fidgety feathered thing out of my mouth. My lady pried my mouth open, and off flew the bird into a nearby bush. Cat Balou and I both made a dash for it, but it was gone. My lady doesn't understand what an achievement it was for me to catch that bird. I was a cat to be envied, king of the world, a one-eyed god, at least for a brief, flickering moment in time.