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Description
Wilson had led a sheltered life, never being allowed outside the house. The People were gentle and generous and he loved his home.

One fateful day, the People came home with a new family member who lived in a small round cage, which they hung to a hook in the ceiling. The People mentioned something about it being a bird.

Curiosity. Wilson climbed onto a nearby table to take a closer look. A small thing it was, with a pointy mouth and strange front legs. A bit weird but somewhat of a bore, it seemed to the cat.

And then it happened: the bird began singing. Wilson's heart started beating faster than it ever had, his eyes went wide, his breathing hastened and saliva flowed in his mouth. What was happening to him?

As days passed, the attraction persisted. The feline always came back to the table near the cage. He couldn't look away. The songs, the fluttering as the bird jumped from place to place in its cage... Wilson was hypnotized. He wanted to jump in there and touch the object of his fascination, hold it closer, taste it...

The cat had never experienced anything like this before. What was it that he was feeling?

Was it? Could it be?

Love?

Combine innocence and naîveté, and it is so easy to mistake lust, even hunger and hunting instincts, for love.

Description
Wilson had led a sheltered life, never being allowed outside the house. The People were gentle and generous and he loved his home.

One fateful day, the People came home with a new family member who lived in a small round cage, which they hung to a hook in the ceiling. The People mentioned something about it being a bird.

Curiosity. Wilson climbed onto a nearby table to take a closer look. A small thing it was, with a pointy mouth and strange front legs. A bit weird but somewhat of a bore, it seemed to the cat.

And then it happened: the bird began singing. Wilson's heart started beating faster than it ever had, his eyes went wide, his breathing hastened and saliva flowed in his mouth. What was happening to him?

As days passed, the attraction persisted. The feline always came back to the table near the cage. He couldn't look away. The songs, the fluttering as the bird jumped from place to place in its cage... Wilson was hypnotized. He wanted to jump in there and touch the object of his fascination, hold it closer, taste it...

The cat had never experienced anything like this before. What was it that he was feeling?

Was it? Could it be?

Love?

Combine innocence and naîveté, and it is so easy to mistake lust, even hunger and hunting instincts, for love.