Chapter 1 - An Introduction to Friendship
Nikolast is a cat. He started out in life (like all cats do) as a kitten. And he wasn't an extraordinary kitten either.. He was the runt of the litter, a calico kitten with flecks of tabby orange around his face and a thin, black stripe on each ear, from base to tip, right up the center. He looked like a baby bobcat. Basically, Nikolast was very much a normal kitten with a few unusual markings. I forgot to mention his paws. One was completely white. The other three were black as a crow's feather.
Johnny is a crow. Big and black, with a black beak, and marble-black eyes, and dark gray claws. He enjoys talking to humans and following them around with his cousins, brothers and sisters. 'Hey Jim, you're 5 minutes late for work." "Hey Jeanie, did you forget your phone again?" "Travis, Travis, you better hurry and get out of there, you'll be late to your wedding." "Kevin, drop the french fries, you know you can't eat them all. Hurry before those pesky sparrows show up."
Johnny Crow and Nikolast had never met before Sunday, March 7th in the 1300th year of the crow revival or the Year of the Cat, No. 2225. Yet they had something in common that is rare in the animal world. They both had deciphered the verbal English language. No, they weren't bit by a radioactive spider. This isn't a super hero story.
It was a foggy March morning in Fortune Oaks, Maine. Nikolast was outside Thomas family cottage, laying low, silently watching blue-jays at the feeder. He was 12 weeks old and had learned to walk between Bert Basset's paws to get through the doggy- door, although the rubber door smacked him back several times before he found his balance and timing. To Niko's benefit, Bert Basset is an old hound dog, with a slow gait and the door does stay open a long time. Sill, Nikolast was proud of his accomplishment, now for a nice plump blue-jay.
Johnny landed on a thick pine branch near the feeder, behind the cottage. The taunting was about to begin.
"Hey big blue, how many of those seeds you need to eat to fill that big blue belly?" Hey, big blue, the sky called. He wants his color back. Hey, how come ya'll have the same last name? That's all kind of seedy. "
Johnny flew down to the wooden lighthouse feeder and landed on top. The Blue Jays scattered. Nearby the cawing of several crows could be heard as the flock of blue jays flew through the neighborhood. Then he flew down to the ground, looking for a french fry or piece of cheese.
Nikolast pounced and it was a good pounce, but perhaps a tad too high and maybe a second too fast, which he realized as he flew over the back of the black-feathered bird and tumbled across the lawn. Johnny Crow noticed the breeze as Nikolast flew past.
"Do you want to try that again? It was an elegant attempt. I feel bad you missed. Of course, grabbing you in my talons and dropping you thirty feet will not result in an elegant landing at all."
Nikolast, looking suddenly disinterested, sat and groomed his paws before replying,
"I wasn't trying to catch YOU for dinner, I was after a big, plump blue-jay. YOU are all skin and bones," said Nikolast in a dismissive tone. Besides, I'm too heavy for a bird to carry."
Johnny found a piece of old bread and poked at it with his beak, while keeping one eye on Nikolast.
"You're a cute kitten, ya look like a baby bobcat, and I could fly with my talons dug into your soft, furry back. I might just do that too and drop you off outside a Chinese restaurant, then dumpster dive tomorrow for kitty-cat lo-mein. Yum. I'm getting hungry thinking of it."
Nikolast laid down facing Johnny Crow. A lady bug landed on his ear.
"My name is Nikolast Octavio Leggier, 8th of my litter, born on the first moon of the Year of the Cat, No. 2225. I am owned and cared for by humans named Thomas. They kept me because I was the runt of the litter, I have very few friends. Would you like to be my friend?"
The words burst out of Niko's mouth in a series of tiny meows. Johnny tilted his head and observed Nikolast very carefully.
"You talk more than I do and that is saying a lot," said the young crow, "How do you know the name of your owners? Is this a trick? Do not pounce me again, you won't like the result. OK, we can be friends on one or more conditions. I do not accept fair weather friends, friends of convenience, or transactional friends. I am free, un-owned and living dangerously in the outside world." Johnny ruffled his feathers, stuck out his chest, and crowed or cawed but of crowing variety.
Nikolast replied with short laugh,
"Wow, you're kind of random, I don't know all those big words you spoke, we can just be friends. Oh, and I know their name because they speak it all the time. Nikolast stood up on his rear hind legs and bowed,
'Hello Mr. Thomas, dinner is almost ready. Has your day gone well?" Nikolast pecked the air imaginatively, "Mrs. Thomas you are so good to me. Leftovers are fine, now where's our son Maxwell hiding today? And where's that playful kitten Nikolast hiding?" Nikolast sat back down and smiled at Johnny Crow.
Johnny looked up into the trees. He heard a hawk screech high in the blue-jay colored sky.
"Buddy, there are only a few of us who can understand their words. That is a rare gift. Now did you hear that screech? A hawk is up in the sky circling. He sees lunch and that's you. He is twice my size and he doesn't like chit chat, just a dive bomb with talons first for his prey. Get inside right away. We'll talk again later." Johnny waved his wings as he spoke, shooing the kitten onto the back porch where an old basset hound was patiently waiting (sleeping) to help Nikolast get back inside the house.
Johnny flew up into the higher branches of the pine tree, one eye on the Thomas Cottage and one eye on the sky. Johnny thought ' I had better not be wrong but I think I need to establish a watch. Nikolast is completely unaware of the danger that is near this house. The hawk screeched again. Johnny began to call out to his cousins, sisters, and brothers.
"Set up a watcher's net, set up a watcher's net for a five long-flight radius, five long-flight radius," cried the crow over and over. Within minutes the call was repeated and within a few hours hundreds upon hundreds of crows took up positions in trees and rooftops, on poles and wires, extended for several miles. The crows repeatedly called out back and forth, standing as sentries into and throughout the day and long into nightfall.
Nikolast was curled up asleep by the fireplace, the red flames of the fire licking at the seasoned red oak wood. Outside the Thomas cottage, for the first time since year 698 in the crow calendar, a watcher's net was in full force, and growing wider by the hour.
End Chapter 1
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