Cat and rabbit

Okay, so tonight I come home, tired of the grind.  And there, outside Dick's house, is White Cat. 

Only this time, White Cat has the ultimate, nonchalant look of "I'm cool but you're not."

Because there, at White Cat's feet, sits a baby rabbit.  Scared.  Trembling.  And White Cat seems to care less about its suffering.

Until I walk up to W.C., and suddenly the mood changes.   White Cat crouches, yet seems hesitant to move ... to yield the poor bunny to me.   White Cat typically would run away when I drew this close.  But not now, with a young rabbit at stake. 

I left the two.  "Nature takes its course," I counseled myself.

And yet the satisfied look of White Cat, juxtaposed against the innocence of a trembling young rabbit, confirmed to me that White Cat represents the most base law of living ... the strongest survive.

I've been tempted to let the dogs loose on White Cat.  But you should never stoop to the level of your adversaries.  

Then again, I'm not sure the dogs are up to it.