Thursday, May 7, 2009

Cat-1 Me-0

I’d like to make it clear from the beginning that it never crossed my mind to actually hurt the cat. I have spent an inordinate amount of time, however, thinking up ways to scare the living daylights out of it. The fluffy, long haired, orange cat from the next block over is a regular visitor to my yard. He likes to sit underneath the tree right next to my bird feeder. He hides in the evergreen branches, stealthily stalking and taunting the birds.

Seeing that my bird friends were in imminent danger of death by cat, I knew it was my responsibility to defend them. I needed to let the orange cat know that he was most unwelcome in my yard. I tried pounding loudly on the window. I tried opening the window and yelling at the cat. I put large sharp rocks underneath the tree. I even tried actually chasing the cat out of my yard. Appearing amused by my commotions, the cat would eventually trot out of the yard at a leisurely clip. Each time, he mocked me with his tail held high, brazenly stared me down and always registered a growly complaint. And within hours, he always returned.

It was when I saw the boy shooting the teenager in the head with his Super Soaker water gun that I knew I had found my answer. “In this family, we don’t shoot each other!” I scolded him. “Now give me that gun. I’ve got a cat to find.” I primed the boy’s water gun so it was ready to go and propped it up outside the front door. The next time that fluffy, orange menace threatened my birds, I was going to be ready.

My heart started pounding when I pulled into the driveway the following day. I saw him in his usual spot under the tree. I quietly snuck from the car to the porch and grabbed my loaded Super Soaker. I surreptitiously moved
behind the Japanese maple tree until I was within 3 feet of the cat. My finger was ready to pull the trigger when the cat finally noticed me. The jig was up. He sensed the new found liquid threat and he started to bolt. With lightening quick speed, I lunged after him with my Super Soaker. And with pure joy oozing from my pores, I aimed right for that evil fluff ball and pulled the trigger.




When the teenager and the boy found me on the porch they paused briefly to assess the situation. And then they let me have it.

The teenager yelled out, “Oh my gosh, mom! I seriously hope you never, ever own a real gun. “

The boy came up and grabbed the Super Soaker from my hands. “ I wouldn’t have given this to you if I knew you didn’t have a clue what direction to point it!”

I went into the house and got a towel to dry off my hair. I washed the dripping mascara off of my face. I changed my water soaked shirt.



I walked back downstairs and looked out the window at the bird feeder.

And under the tree, curled like a snake around the sharp rocks, and looking utterly content and dry, sat the fluffy, long haired, orange cat from the next block over.



Check This Out!


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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Try a real gun.

calimom said...

Leave that poor cat alone. Birds are messy and get up WAY too early in the morning.

Cheryl M. said...

I had a friend do something similar, except it involved a giant spider and bug spray!