Chuck's obsession with a raven started quite innocently. They are highly intelligent, magnificent coal black birds, made famous by Edgar Allen Poe in his poem, "The Raven." When we were traveling in California, in Yosemite National Park, eating lunch outside one afternoon, minding our own business, a raven flew down out of the sky out of nowhere. That's all Chuck needed to see.
I can't call it love at first sight. But there is something that happens when a cat sees a bird. Contrary to the usual carnivorous reaction, Chuck was instantly mesmerized. He, of course, knew the poem, "The Raven," but he'd never seen a real raven before and neither had I.
The raven landed and Chuck hopped up, abandoning his turkey snack, which was a miracle in itself.
"Be nice," I called. I wanted to also call out, "Be careful." Ravens can use their beaks to rip objects open. They are one of the few bird species that can use tools to obtain food and defend themselves.
Luckily, the next few moments were magical. Chuck followed the raven, always a few respectful feet behind. When the raven finally flew off, Chuck's obsession began.
Raven this and raven that. He started reciting lines from Poe's famous poem.
"In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore."
"Quoth the raven--nevermore."
What cat talks like that? (I suspect Dan was somehow involved in Chuck's sudden spurt of literary genius.)
Insanely curious, back at the hotel, Chuck asked Dan to google "raven" and begin to do research. He wanted to know everything there was to know about ravens.
"Did you know ravens can fly upside down and do somersaults in the air?" Dan asked.
"No, I did not."
Chuck sat in rapt attention, listening.
"Did you know they can sing?"
"Nope."
"Did you know they eat almost anything?"
"Really?"
"Insects, eggs, seeds, berries--"
Chuck was nodding. I was imagining a raven gorging himself on my favorite--pumpkin pie.
"Ok. I get the picture."
Dan found a YouTube video that featured raven calls. Caw, caw, caw, caw. He played it once. Twice.
The cawing was music to Chucky's ears.
"Enough about ravens," I said.
But Chuck wouldn't have it. He wanted to go outside and spot more ravens.
"Some people believe they are a sign of bad luck," I said, hoping to discourage Chuck from his increasing mania. "Maybe it's not such a good idea to hang out with--"
But Dan, seeing Chuck look so forlorn, admitted, "They can also be a sign of good fortune."
Finally I had to put my foot down. "Chuck, we are NOT adopting a raven. It's a wild bird. That's the end of it."
But I was so wrong. What I thought was the end turned out to be only the beginning.
I'll see you next week with the rest of the story.
STAY TUNED FOR MORE ADVENTURES OF CHUCK, THE RASCAL CAT. AND PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT. CHUCK WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. JUST CLICK ON "COMMENT." IT'S EASY.
