Before the Grackle

A black cat sits on the back step with his tail around his feet, looking at the door. The sun is on the back wall, and next door a man is tending a smoking grill. The kibble is in a coffee tin by the step. You know where the scoop is.

You crouch and fill the saucer. On the step rail a grackle watches the kibble, head tilted, a hop away. You set the saucer down before the grackle can move.

The cat does not look at the saucer. He looks at the space behind your shoulder, a little above your head, and keeps looking. You hold still. The grackle holds still.

Come and see this, says the man next door, tongs in his hand.

The cat eats.