Ever notice a cat (sometimes a dog too) staring out in the distance (usually through the window), then you go to look, to see what it’s staring at and you see nothing. The cat then jumps away to go do something else. Is that cat equivalent of “Ha ha, made you look” ?
No; I think it’s a sign that you need to get out more.
Was Orion teasing you again?
Seriously, I think that cats’ eyes are just designed differently from ours and they pick up movement we can’t detect. There was probably a bug or something in the grass that caught his attention. When it quit moving or flew away, he got bored.
I read that cats’ eyes are better at detecting side-to-side motion than up-and-down. Experiment on Orion with a wad of paper on a string and see if there’s a difference in how he tracks it. But don’t get so wound up in it (no pun intended) that you forget to go to the post office 
My home office is a small room with glass doors just off our living room.
One night we were watching TV. Our springer puppy Phyllis was lying in front of my office door, as if looking into my office – but the office was completely dark. Suddenly she got agitated and started barking and growling, as if she saw something happening in the office. But how could she? It was completely dark. I went over to investigate and when I got to where I could see the door from her angle, it was obvious – with the darkened room behind it, the glass was acting as a mirror and was reflecting the scene in the living room. She was seeing our reflections in the door and thought someone was in the office.
Now I leave a light on in here at night. 
My dad’s dog barks at his own reflection in the water bowl. You’d think the water jumped up and bit his nose or something.
What did I do? Or is there another Orion somewhere? 
This reminded me of the lyrics of one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite songwriters:
Everything reminds me of my dog
By Jane Siberry
. . . . . . . . . .
It’s like when we go for a walk
to get the Sunday paper
I stand there and read the headlines,
he reads the wind.
Sometimes he hits a funny smell, and laughs,
I hate it when he does that: I feel so dumb!
“What? What?” I say
Everything reminds me of my dog–
beautiful things–
sunsets remind me of my dog
(Gina, go to your window).
Einstein reminds me of me dog:
I wanna pat his fluffy head.
This whole world reminds me of my dog;
my dog reminds me of this whole world.
Do I remind you of a dog? (thump thump)
I do? (thump thump thump thump)
Skyscrapers remind me of my dog,
sitting in the tall grass waiting for a rabbit.
Guys in red cameros too
(it’s gettin’ to be a habit).
Artists remind me of my dog:
staking out their originality on the nearest tree.
Old folks remind me of my dog;
my dog reminds old folks of their dogs
(Barfy, Ruffo, Beanhead.
Gina says I remind her of my dog,
the way that I just did that. . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
LOL! Orion is also the name of our cat!
It’s not like this happens to me on a regular basis. I’ve just noticed this off and on over the years.
Sorry, Joel, I was just kitting.
You might want to track down a copy of “Everything Reminds Me of My Therapist” by Nancy Tucker.
Hehe, woops… 
I feel stupid now. :: Ducks and runs::
Speaking of poetry and pets, there’s a great poem I’d like to see again. It was read by Garrison Keillor on the Writer’s Almanac one morning, called “Catlight.” Anyone ever hear of it? The only line I can remember is:
“…her skull, like a kneecap…”