Ever see the door plaque, “My cat lets me live here”?
I share my writing space with Krazy Kat. More accurately, my Tuxedo “mutt” deigns to let me meet my writing deadlines, while she listens to Mozart and dozes in the sunshine.
Apparently I wasn’t paying enough attention to Krazy Kat last week, and she was feeling vengeful. When I tried to pet her, she clawed my hand and dashed beneath the bed.
Bleeding and furious, I grabbed a toy wolf and shouted, “I love this wolf more than you!” I was just sore enough to mean it.
You may think I’m nuts, attributing higher understanding to a cat, but I’m telling you, there’s a REASON why Egyptians used to worship felines.
Setting the wolf on my desk, I left “Pussy Brat” fuming in the living room, her black tail lashing and her green eyes narrowed to slits.
About five minutes later, I heard a resounding thump. The little stinker had dragged the toy off the desk. I found her wrapped around the wolf (which is twice her size,) her claws plunged into the toy’s gut. She was growling like a fiend and trying to bite off the toy’s ear.
Apparently, Pussy Brat doesn’t like competition.
Many, MANY days later, Krazy Kat finally stopped attacking the toy. I guess she decided I really don’t love it more than I love her. Either that, or she considers that wolf quite dead..