The birds are the first to frighten when I open the dooror throw water from the kitchen window.A car once nicked the neighbor’s calicoas it scurried across the streetso they had to find it and have its snout stitched up,but I chase the cats away anywayfrom where they watch the gold finches at my feeder.We share an interest but not a motive,watching should any feather be ruffled.The Bible says the Lord sees even the fall of a sparrow;it’s reasonable to think he also cares for cats.The birds have ways to survive. If onesees cause for sudden flight, they all take off.If one discovers food, others come to jostlelike selfish nest mates.Each little gold-breasted bird, flying alone,perching on a wet branch, pecking for seeds,balances gracefully above death by cat,or by cold, or by hunger.Nothing but luck or the Lordhelps it if it falls.The cats, the birds, my bird feeding, even my chasingthe cats away, are parts of the natural order.I’m interfering every way I canlike a shepherd protecting his lambs.