Jasper waited, careful to not so much as flick the end of his tail as Prettybird landed near the bowl. The mockingbird watched him, cocking his head, first to one side, then the other, before hopping to the food. Jasper pretended not to care. He kept his front paws tucked beneath him and his eyes half closed, as though he was dozing.

This better be worth it. Then he almost purred. Calli would be.

It had been a long time since he’d hunted a bird, maybe an entire year. But birds had good memories, and he’d almost caught Prettybird before, and that made him wary. Like Buddy. He’d caught Buddy across the road, only to have to let him go when the dogs found them. After that, Buddy kept his distance, not even swooping and pecking.

It surprised Jasper when Buddy landed near the cat bowl one day; surprised him more when the bird called him.

“Jasper,” Buddy said.

Jasper’s ears flattened. He didn’t care for his human name. He tensed, ready to spring.

Buddy flew to a limb in the nearby pecan tree. “Need to talk.”

“Not with birds,” Jasper said.

“I need you to do something.”

Jasper gave him a look of disdain. “I don’t do things for prey. What can a cat do for a bird?”

“Kill another bird.”

He’d raised his ears at that. “Why should I? I have plenty of food.”

“Calli is in heat.”

Jasper’s ears went flat again. “So? There are dogs in her yard.” One had almost caught him the day before, when he’d picked up a whiff of Calli and ventured over.

“I can take care of the dogs,” Buddy said.

The cat stared at him. “You? How?”

“Like this.” Buddy flitted to another limb and imitated a human whistling for a dog.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jasper immediately jerked his head toward the house across the street, but he didn’t see the dogs.

“Kill Prettybird and I will get the dogs out of your way.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough.”

That’s what you think. But even just once, with Calli…

He stared at the bird, noticing the crease in the feathers on his chest, the scar from when he’d caught him. “Why do you want Prettybird dead?”

“Territory.”

The cat stared at the scar on the bird’s chest. With Prettybird gone, I can catch Buddy here, where no dogs can save him. “I’ll do it.”

Buddy hopped to another spot on the limb. “Good. Here is how to claim your reward.” A moment of discussion, then Buddy flew back across the street.

Now Jasper watched the oblivious Prettybird. He already stole from the cat bowl, but now Jasper allowed himself to be seen, moving closer each day as he feigned disinterest. His only concern was Calli: she would be coming out of heat soon. But today he was so close to Prettybird that he could touch him, would touch him as soon as he turned his back.

Prettybird turned his back.

A pounce, a bite to the throat, and it was done. Jasper waited until Prettybird stopped quivering, making sure he was dead before releasing his mouth. He paused, admiring his kill, then picked it up and ran to the front yard. There he crouched beneath a shrub, waiting for Buddy to see him.

It didn’t take long. The mockingbird few to a treetop and eyed him. Jasper checked for traffic, then carried Prettybird onto the highway, leaving him there as he darted back to the shrub.

Buddy flew nearer, landing in a dogwood. He cocked his head, first to one side, then the other. After a moment, he flew to a tree down the road and whistled.

Jasper watched the dogs run toward Buddy. He waited to make sure they were gone and darted across the road.

Calli usually stayed in her humans’ backyard. She was friends with the dogs, even sharing their bed. You never knew about some cats. He wandered through the open gate into the backyard and yowled for her.

He heard nothing. Jasper yowled again, but there was no reply.

He walked around the backyard. Unlike his, it was all lawn, without even a tree, surrounded by a tall, wire, fence. He walked across the freshly mowed grass, catching her scent, but it was fading, like she hadn’t been there for days.

Jasper’s ears went flat. Buddy will suffer for this. I’ll catch him and-

He heard Calli yowl. He looked toward the house and saw her, inside, sitting on a windowsill.

Then he saw the dogs walking through the gate.

He crouched, his body low against the ground. The dogs paused at the gate as they caught his scent and hadn’t noticed him yet. In a moment they’d follow his trail. But they’d move away from the gate and he’d have his chance. He tensed, prepared to run.

Buddy landed on the ridge of the house, looking at him, then flew low across the yard and perched directly behind him on the fence. Jasper risked a glance over his shoulder.

Buddy stared at him, cocking his head, first to one side, then the other. He preened, running his beak along the scar on his chest. He turned his attention back to Jasper, staring at him.

Then he whistled.