Friday, November 22, 2013

You mess with the bull, you get the horns.

Hands down, the best pet we ever had was Kitty. (Aka: Purrs and/or Mama Z)

She "followed" Tyler home from school when he was in kindergarten. (Like cats follow people, but whatever.) She was a big kitten - what my mom likes to call "a teenager cat" - when she came to us, and she stayed until she died. I don't remember how old she was, but she was oooooold. Like, toothless-wonder old. But she was sweet until the bitter end. We loved her. We ALL did.

This is a pic of Kitty that I snapped when I was in high school, I think, when she was in her prime.

She was a beautiful creature, wasn't she? So soft, so fluffy, so sweet. ... Unless you messed with her babies, and then she was a holy terror.

One fine summer day, the Curt brothers came to play, with their dog in tow. The pooch followed Jared into the backyard and onto the patio. Kitty had a relatively new litter of kittens in a box under the window, and she was lying in the box with her babies when the dog came snooping along.

Jared looked over at the animals and said, "Your cat better watch out". Kirk looked right back at him, and said (if I remember right), "I wouldn't worry about her."

Just about then, the dog got too close to the box, and Kitty came barreling out at him. She slashed him across his nose, and as he buckled and starting to cry, she launched herself onto his back and dug in for a long, hard, ride.

Poor Jared didn't know what to do, except cry "Get her off of him!". We all stood by and laughed as our fluffy little Kitty brought a Queensland Heeler to his knees.

I'm pretty sure that dog never came in our yard again. Jared did, sure. But not his dog. ... Still makes me laugh out loud.

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