There is a nasty angry cat that lives in our neighborhood. He’s a real fucker.
A couple weeks ago while walking our dog this cat jumped out of the shadows and just attacked the dog with a couple of quick swipes of his clawed paws. He was totally unafraid. I had an old police night stick with me and I popped it not too hard in the stomach to get it to back off and it just stepped back, arched its’ back, and hissed at me. I thought, for a moment, that he was about to attack me too so I popped him softly in the nose to make sure he realized I had good reach and that the stick was hard. He turned tail and left us alone.
Until last night. Last night we went for a walk and our cats, as usual, walked with us (albiet at a slight distance behind). When the walk was done we all headed in the house. The cats are a real pain about crossing the threshold and they always approach it as if it were a trap but last night piglet bolted in but grover, stubborn old grover, wouldn’t go in so I closed the door.
As soon as the door was shut I heard the tell-tale sounds of a cat fight. Hissing and howling and growling. I opened the door back up and that fucking cat was attacking grover right on our porch. I didn’t have the club with me but I did have the dog, off a leash, and she bolted outside to dish out payback.
The cats both bolted in different directions and Rosie (the dog) and I both chased the cat. Rosie supermanned it over the fence in hot pursuit (glad we built the fence to safely contain her). I followed along up to the nearest intersection where Rosie had cornered the cat under a parked car.
The cat tried a couple times, unsuccesfully, to sneak out a different side of the car but Rosie is fast and was waiting for the little feline devil could escape. Eventually I called Rosie over and we abandoned the cat and I felt good that we had at least scared the cat and maybe given it a reason to reconsider coming in our yard again.
I doubt it but I’m hopeful.
Eventually Grover came back home and he had a bunch of loose fur on his back near his tail. I removed it and checked him for real injury but he seemed ok. So I let him go in (he entered reasonable fast this time) and Rosie ran over to see how he was.
He smacked Rosie in the face and then bolted up the stairs. Clearly Grover was in no mood for anyone, but me, to be near him at that point and I don’t blame him. Rosie shrugged it off. Rosie’s cool like that.
That cat,if it comes back in my yard, and I can catch it, will be going to the pound. If I can’t catch it I’ll probably shoot it. It’s a fucking menace.