I had the most beautiful and exciting hour with Zip on Monday afternoon. It was warm, the sky was blue, and Zip. On such afternoons, I go out to one of the chairs in the backyard, and my new friend Zip hops up on my shoulder or climbs down and puts his head on my knee.

I scratch and pet him, and after a while, he falls asleep (photo above). It’s a particular time for him and me, calming and full of feeling. He often puts his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes. We soak up the sun together and the quiet as often as we can. and the weather permits.

Sometimes, I fall asleep, too. It was a mystical hour.

After a half hour, Zip sat up and locked onto the stone fence in front of us. He stayed on my shoulder (below). He saw a chipmunk, and I saw one or two. He sat still for half an hour and then stared at the wall without moving or making a sound. We both watched together; I even got a photo (below) of the chipmunk he had spotted sitting on the wall. I hadn’t noticed it.

I documented the next half-hour, which was fascinating to me. I am learning much about patience, silence (and love) from Zip, my new cat friend. Come and see what happens if you wish, nothing ugly.

I felt like I had entered another world, and you were invited to come. This experience was exceptional.

On the one hand, I was rooting for Zip. On the other, I wanted the chipmunk to go underground because it was too late.

CHIPMUNK! Zip was asleep on my shoulder, where he always goes when we sit together. Suddenly, and out of a sleep, his head shot up. I took a selfie to catch the experience.  He quietly moved down to my leg. He was ready. The Iphone is perfect for this kind of photography.  The Leica is a bit clumsy for such close-in work.

I took this photo while Zip was still in my lap, watching without moving. He saw the chipmunk, but I didn’t see it for a long while. Neither one of us moved. I had seen it before.

Every ten minutes, Zip would move a bit closer, never making a sound or taking his eyes off the stone wall.

At one point, Zip and the chipmunk laid eyes on one another, and both froze. The chipmunk blinked first and, when Zip moved, disappeared into the stone wall. Bud hung in there for a while, but it seemed he had been spotted.  He knew. I doubted the chipmunk would come out again, and Maria joined us. We both were glad we didn’t see a capture and killing.

The yard is full of chipmunk holes; they are intelligent and alert. I think Zip has gotten one or two.

 

After the chipmunk dove back into his hole, Zip moved closer and got quieter.

His patience amazed me, and he never took his eyes off the spot where the chipmunk appeared. At this point, Zip gave up and turned back to me, but I had to get to work.

I thought the hour we spent together was unique, and I felt like we were doing this together; he had let me enter his world. There is a very strong bond of mutual trust and affection between Zip and me; I am fortunate to experience it with a very unusual cat. Thanks for coming along.