My fingers curled into themselves as the scene unfolded before my eyes.
Two young lions had teased and chased several hyenas.  Isolated now from
the lion pack, the two teenagers are surrounded by a dozen hyenas.  There
is no visible escape.  There is no help coming.
 
The hyenas circled in for the kill.  Their jaws are so strong that they can
bite through a lions bone.  The two carnivores-lion and hyena, kill each
other when they can, as they are in competition with one another for the
same food.
 
I say the prayers that come automatically for me.  I pray that any animals
killed are in heaven with God now.  My finger nails sink into the flesh of
my palm.  They are circling the lions, cackling and running in for a bone
crunching bite.  I understand killing for food and survival.  I just cannot
watch it.  I turn my head away.
 
The gang is up and on the prowl.  They are excited: chortling and leaping
as they spot their victim.  The cat lies asleep in the middle of the room.
I am no longer watching a movie.  This is predatory action occurring live
in my living room.
 
The cat awakens, emits a low guttural growl, and bares his long canines.
His tail twitches in annoyance.  His eyes are slit.  His hissssss sends
``chills down my spine--gives me goose bumps.  They have been warned.
 
Ignorant of the potential danger, the chinless devils skulk about.  The
cat is completely surrounded.  One makes a sideways leap for the ear, where
it proceeds to investigate with darting tongue and nipping teeth.  Another
is face to face with the large carnivoire-nose to nose.  A stare down.
Another has thrust his entire head under the derriere to inhale the wafting
odors from his quarries backside.  I remember kissing his nose earlier
today and cringe.
 
Another leaps sideways, twisting on top of the cat.  And that is IT> The
cat is up.  The chase is on.  Round and round they go, little feet pounding
the floor.  Fleet of foot and as agile as the cat, the larger animal is
bitten and leaped on.  The Couch cannot save him.  The chair cannot keep
the monsters at bay.  They won't slow down.  They won't give up.
 
His leap to the kitchen table finally procures his release from the
chinless savages.  The meat eaters chortle and war dance around the table.
The cat glares at the threat beneath him, then settles in for a bath.
 
I turn my head back to the TV set.  The cats have somehow made it back to
the pride without injury.  They have all collapsed in the heat of the
day-sleeping, bathing: waiting for the cool of night to hunt.
 
Tonight shall bring another adventure.  Another close call.  Another true
story.  I will not need to turn on a TV set to view it.
 
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3325]