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SEC files: the pre-seeing eye cat tale

Story:True. Names changed to keep my ass out of jail. Fortunatly, the idiot has since moved.

Shortly after the little bastard stole my heart, he got sick on me and had to go to a big-city animal clinic for radiation therapy. Best grand I ever spent. This was about 6-7 years ago. He was still pretty much in the feral stage, although I had gotten him settled down a bit.

I was taking him for a walk on his leash regularly, and this * down the street thought it funny to let his collie out to chase kitty up a tree. This, of course, left me stuck holding a leash in one hand and fending off a 75 pound collie with the other. I admit, it was funny the first time.

I bought a can of pepper spray, plan was to give the poor pooch a quick squirt and hose down the owner with the rest of the can.

That night, I had a couple too many beers while watching TV with kitty on my lap. Kitty and I both woke up feeling not really 100% because kitty had been breathing my fumes. You don't want to mess with a hungover cat.

Anyway, we went for our morning walk, and as usual, the * let the collie out, but I was ready. Or thought I was. I unhooked kitty's leash and put him in the tree and got the shock of my life! Kitty jumped out of the tree and charged the collie! It didn't last very long, Kitty tore the collie up--bad. REAL bad. Last I saw of the dog was watching him run while being chased by one pissed off 7 1/2 pound cat.

The dog's owner came flying out of the house raising all sorts of hell, and as he was carrying on, kitty returned and added fuel to the fire by sharpening his claws on the guy's mailbox post. I hooked kitty back on to his leash.

End of round one.

Late that afternoon,the owner came to my door babbling incoherently about having to cough up $400+ at the vet's office. Seems the collie's snout took quite a beating, seeing there wasn't much meat on it. Every slash kitty had made was to the bone and required stitches. In a way, I felt bad for the dog.

Anyway, the idiot babbled something about 'demanding satisfaction'. I knew he meant restitution, but, being a First Class Clown myself, I decided to take him at his word. I told him to show up Saturday AM at 10:30 with a reliable male witness. Nothing like purposly misunderstanding someone. He showed right on time.

I came out of the house with my hair slicked back, wearing a ruffled front tuxedo shirt with mu moustache trimmed to a pencil-thin, ala Errol Flynn. Then I slapped him with a glove and offered him his choice of swords or pistols.

His 'second' whipped out a cell phone. LEOs. MY second got to the cruiser first and assured him no weapons were out. The LEO seemed both amused and aggravated at the same time and told the pair of us to 'take it to West Virginia'.

"Those hillbillies eat that stuff up," he said. "Either that, or take it to the magistrate. If the dog wasn't on a leash, I KNOW what the magistrate's going to say."

I asked the cop if he's referee a fistfight, he agreed with a grin, if both parties insisted. The idiot skulked away. Took off like a shot.

As he was leaving, the LEO told me that my pencil-thin didn't make me look like Errol Flynn. He said it made me look like a pudgy little Italian organ grinder.

end of round 2.

The cowardly bastard waited until I was at work a week or so later and demanded the money from my wife. The wife told him I'd just spent all of our money on dueling swords,'Which he's never gonna use because you chickened out!'

He left.

end of round 3

When I was home from work, I shot in a CMP match. On my way home, I stopped at Rosa's greasy spoon for lunch along with a couple former marines. In walks the *. "You gonna write me a check for that money you owe me," he boomed.

" The only thing I'm writing is the Marine Corps puttin' tha cat in for the Navy Cross, after all, he whipped your 75 pound fleabag!"

Almost everyone in the place bust out laughing, and a former marine said:"That's right, put him in for a Navy Cross because if you put him in for a Silver Star, those chairwarmers in Washington will bump it down to a good conduct medal!" GALES of laughter. The * fled.

The following day I was trying to get out of mowing the lawn. A little kid from across the street came by and asked: Are you weally going to twy get your wittle kitty a medow?"

I decided on the spot, why not, beats mowing. So I went downtown and argued with a major for the paperwork, and it took me a couple of days to get it all completed. I sent it into HQ USMC, and, as I expected, got no official answer.

But about a week later, I found 3 small packages in the mail box with no return addresses, and greater DC postmarks.

2 homemade medals from the hobby shop, and one can of gourmet cat food with a 'Semper Fi' sticker on it.

Kitty doesn't like to wear his medals, but sure ate the gourmet cat food!

The pepper spray got used about 2 months later. I walked into Clancy's and he was likkered up a bit and came at me with threats. I quietly goaded him on and when he tried to grab my shirt, I hosed the bastard down with the entire can. Clancy threw him out, and the next thing I heard of him was a couple years later when someone told me he moved.

SEC files: the first “seeing eye cat” tale

Yesterday I was shoveling my truck out, and in the glove box, I found the temporary handicapped parking thingie the doc gave me when I busted my foot. That was a hands-down 'keeper', so I put it back in the glove box.


Last night the wife really started in on me about something dopey. I beat a hasty retreat to the basement; in fact it was so bad that the CAT beat me through the door. We sat there in the easy chair and watched TV (both put there for that purpose) and grew bored.

I decided to sneak out to a movie, but it wasn't fair to the little guy leaving him there.
So I grabbed a 4' white 7/16 dowel and spray painted the end 10" or so red, grabbed my sunglasses, and put the cat in his harness and clipped on a leash. We sneaked out the back door and into the pickup.

We drove off and I decided that it would be cool to see a movie if we could pull it off.
So when we got near the theatre, I put on my shades, pulled the handicapped thingy out and hung it on my mirror. I parked in a handicapped spot, grabbed the lease and the cane and kitty and I started toward the theatre with kitty playing the role of 'seeing eye' cat.

Some guy and his sweetie were getting out of their car, and she'd seen me get out of mine. I asked him, a real doofus, to lead me to the door. He took my arm and led the way.

You should have seen her trying NOT to wet her pants. She was funny. She wasn't stupid.

I was poking things with my cane, got to the ticket counter and bought a ticket and stumbled around until an usher led me into the theatre and seated me. Kitty sat on my lap throughout the movie. (Ghost ship. Save your money.)

After the movie, the usher came running and helped kitty and I leave the theatre.

Kitty on the leash led me to the truck, and I got in and we drove off.

Kitty got an extra treat for his 'Academy Award' performance.

NOBODY---NOT ONE PERSON AT ALL---CHALLENGED ME IN ANY WAY!!!! The people around us are stupid, lazy, or scared.

SEC files: Another “seeing eye cat” tale

I ought to tell you about the time a couple years ago the pair of us got into some real deep doo-doo.

The wife came home, went looking for kitty, and knew I was out shopping for building materials. Thought I'd leave the little guy in the pickup. She tried to come to the rescue. Finds the truck. No cat. goes inside, sees me with sunglasses, cat and cane.

So she has a snit and snatched the cat and started to walk off.

I simply plowed into a pile of insulation, knocked it over, fell on my ass, started swinging my cane and shouted: “Help me! For God's sake! Someone is stealing my seeing eye cat!"

Some guy sees me, sees the wife starting to run and grabs the wife. HIS wife grabs kitty, brings him to me, hooks him onto my leash and helps me up.

The guy who grabbed her hauled out a cell phone and calls the LEOs.

When I heard that, I made some quick excuse and kitty and I boogied. We were leaving in the pickup as the LEOs were coming in.

Wife had to spend better part of an hour trying to explain to LEOs what she was doing trying to steal a seeing-eye cat from a blind man. Of course, a couple dozen honest citizens were telling the LEOs that it REALLY WAS a blind guy with a REAL seeing eye cat, and looking at the wife like she was some kind of evil witch. Why she got off the hook is beyond me, but she didn't get locked up.

Cost me 5 weeks on the cot in the basement, but it sure broke her of the habit of starting spats in public (I hate that $hit. No excuse for public spectacles)

To this day, if my buddy even says 'seeing-eye cat' within earshot of her, I get a REAL dirty look.

Women have NO sense of humor

The SEC in Lowe’s

A lot of readers think that I have the little guy trained. Come on, think about it. Has anyone ever seen anyone get a cat to do anything that a cat didn’t want to do? Hah! Fat chance! You should live so long!

No, a cat is a cat, and trying to get a cat to act like a dog is like trying to get a brick to carry on an intelligent conversation. On the other hand, one might have better luck with a brick.

The SEC will walk with me on a damned short leash, but that’s about all. The only reason the little guy will do that is because he knows that it’s the only way he can get out of the house.

Today I decided to take the little guy into Lowe’s. I also decided, rather foolishly, to put myself at the mercy of the little bastard. I decided to give him a long leash and see what happened.

I short-leashed the little guy into Lowe’s and got him into the main aisle before I cut him some slack. The place wasn’t too crowded, so I felt safe doing so. Of course, being a cat, he promptly jumped on top of a display and took a nap, leaving me standing there with my thumb up my ass and a leash in my hand for about twenty minutes. I stood there and muttered threats, much like Popeye in the early cartoons.

After about twenty minutes, I grew impatient and growled at him. He woke up, hopped off of the display and started down the aisle. After a couple aisles, he wandered into the tool cage, with me firmly attached to the little guy. Of course, someone offered to help me.

“Yeah, could you direct me to the Paint Department?” I asked.

He started to give me directions. I interrupted.

“Don’t tell me, tell HIM.” I said shaking the leash.

“The cat? Can I give him directions?”

“Absolutely.”

So the tool guy gets down on his knee and starts giving the cat directions.

Of course, the cat looks at him with a bored look of scorn.

When he’s done, I shorten up the leash and the two of us go straight to the paint department, with the tool clerk behind us, slack-jawed. We got to the paint department and the woman there asks us if she can help us. I tell her to get out a color chart and explain that the cat needs his scratching post and climbing post painted. She asks me what color. I tell her to ask the cat. I pick the little guy up onto the counter and she lays out a color chart.

“What color do you want, kitty?” She asked.

The cat sniffs the color chart like he’s trying to make up his mind.

“Meow.”

So I put him on the floor and tell the woman that we’ll be right back when Kitty decides. The woman looks astonished and we leave.

Kitty seems to want to head in the direction of the lumber section, I give him slack and follow. He promptly cuts a corner and runs me into a post. Whack!

“Ouch! Dammit, pay attention!” I almost shout.

I hear a snort behind me. A glance out of the corner of my eye tells me that the tool guy, probably at the direction of his boss, is following me. This is getting interesting.

Kitty whips a U-turn and we’re back in the main aisle, still headed for lumber.

We’re now dead center in the main aisle and ahead of us is one of those dopey signs announcing some type of sale. The frame of the sign is like an upturned U with a crossbar in the center, below the sign is a two-foot square hole. Of course, Kitty makes a beeline for it. Straight through the hole. I feel the obstacle with my cane, shove my cane in my belt, and gingerly feel the rim of the hole. I get down on my belly and crawl through and get up again.

I shortened up the leash and picked up Kitty.

“Next time you pull that stunt,” I tell him. “I’m going to replace you with a German Shepherd and take you straight to a Chinese Restaurant! Chin Ho offered me two fifty a pound for your sorry ass!”

The woman beside me looks pretty shaken. She’s probably a cat owner.

I put kitty down, he heads down another aisle, cutting the corner again, and I promptly run into a display and knock out the corner of it. There is now a pile of tape measures on the floor.

“I’ll get it,” says the kid shadowing me.

Kitty gets more threats, whips another U-turn, and we’re off toward the lumber department.

By now, at least a dozen people are shadowing me. Some are amused, but most of them are looking out for my welfare. A management type seems to have figured me out, but dares not say or do anything, lest he be pounced on by an angry mob that will insist that kitty really is a Seeing Eye cat.

A kid of about twelve or thirteen asks me a question.

“Hey, Mister, were you born blind, or did you have an accident?” he asks.

“What?”

“What made you go blind?”

“Masturbation,” I reply, seriously. “I didn’t believe the Nuns at school, but it really does make you go blind.”

The kid pales and takes off. Probably a St Ignatius kid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy about 40 trying not to pee his pants. Laughing his ass off, he says, “You probably ruined him for life.”

We move on. Nearing the lumber department, I hear a voice. “Piccolo, is that you?”

I ignore him. Dammit! Ratted out by a fellow ARFCOM member! Now I wish I had brought my chain saw! I’d cut the bastard lips to hips! So I ignore him.

At the lumber department is a huge, wide open door, and kitty makes a beeline for it. Out we go and I shorten leash and we head for the pickup.

OK here it is. Final SEC results

My neighbor's kid took a spill at basketball and got a pretty healthy sized bruise. No biggie.

The next day at school, the math teacher, a 1st year, high-strung rookie about 23-24 yo) took 1 look at the bruise and instantly called the child welfare people without asking anybody anything about it. Bam! just like that. No chain of command thru the principal, no questions, no nothing! That ain't right!

Of course, there was a brief investigation. No wrongdoing of any kind, still my neighbor was pissed of to the max because he was 'now in the system'.

I got him calmed down and what we did was evil.

He called the school and told them that I was going to pick up his kid after basketball practice. He gave me a note. He waited at home.

I took kitty and we got out of the pickup around the corner, out of sight. Kitty and I did the SEC bit and Trish and Ms Crunt were at the door. I handed the note to the teacher and Trish led me off to the truck asking me who was driving. I said I would if she told me which way to go.

Then Trish asked if we could go to the rifle range on the way home.

Ms Crunt went through the roof babbling all sorts of craziness about a blind man driving and taking a little kid shooting. She followed us out to the truck screaming and babbling all sorts of ****. God, it was funny! Kitty made a beeline for the truck, as he HATES yelling. I followed, guides partly by cane, partly by Trish.

With her carrying on and Trish and I totally ignoring her, it's a good thing there were no witnesses. They'd have taken all three of us straight to the booby hatch.

We got in and fired up the rig and drove off amid threats of LEOs and Child welfare people.

Fifty feet out, we both started laughing so hard I almost had a for real accident.


The bait had been put out, the trap set.


Shortly after I dropped Trish off, Bob got 2 calls, 1 from the principal and the other from Child welfare. Meeting set for after school Mon.

Bob later said that he fenced pretty well with them and managed to make Ms Crunt look like the idiot she is. ('Whadda ya mean blind guy?' He's a Merchant Marine Officer!)

Then he went in for the kill.

He dialed me on the cell phone and I was there inside a couple of minutes, in a jacket and tie, wearing sunglasses. Trish met me at the door and took me to the conference room by the hand.

"That's him! There's the blind man!"

I took off my sunglasses and looked at her like she was nuts.

"You're gonna get fat if you keep up your exercise program," I said.

"What?"

"Running off at the mouth, jumping to conclusions, and dragging a good man's name through the mud is NOT good exercise," I said.

"But you has a cane and a guide animal!"

"The cane was a stick. I twisted my ankle a bit. Blind people use a foldup cane, if you never noticed, and the animal was a CAT. Who ever heard of a seeing eye cat? That's a good one, Seeing Eye Cat!"

I shook my head, looking at her like she was nuts, and laughed.

The kiddie cop laughed outright. "Seeing eye cat, that's pretty good," he said.

Even the principal smiled.

Ms.Crunt sat there looking pretty damned stupid!

The kiddie cop asked about the rifle range.

Mike said that Trish goes there to practice her Archery so she'll be ready for Spring Archery season, coming up soon. He pointed out that archery was a SCHOOL ACTIVITY and Trish took it last year, and planned to take it again.

As far as the rifle part went, He said that although he never owned a firearm and didn't see getting one in the future, that he wanted to have his daughter learn to safely know how to handle one in case someone ever handed her one.

Then he said, "Capt Pic is on several fine rifle teams and is obviously the guy to teach her. He's actually shot in the National Matches!"(Yeah, the JCG and Springfield matches. BFD)

The kiddie cop seemed impressed, which surprised me to no end. He actually said gun safety was a good idea!

Ms Crunt pouted. She looked on the verge of tears.

I then answered several questions about Bob and his relationship with Trish and then was asked to take Trish home.

We quietly hung outside the room for a while before we left, and there was all sorts of teary sobbing as the Kiddie cop and the Principal went to work on poor little Ms Crunt. They hammered her big time.

I heard the principal tell little Ms Crunt that "If she saw 50' flames, she was NOT to call the Fire Department until she had notified her first!" More tears.

Trish and I left,with me stopping off on the way home at the liquor store for a 1/2 pint. I was shaking like a leaf. The after action shakes.I needed a belt just to settle down.

We waited about an hour.

Bob returned.

Final score: Lions-5; Christians-0.

1.Teacher on probation.
2. Principal pleading for no lawsuit.(agreed)
3.Kid gets tuition for free to grade 12.
4.Kiddie cop made everything go away except 1st contact report, and put a note on that declaring initial complaint proved to be a questionably criminal act on the part of Ms Crunt.(ouch!)
5. Trish pulled out of Ms Crunt's math class and put in another a bit more advanced, and the teacher there is supposed to 'work with Trish' to help her catch up.

Bob owes me a steak dinner,and a new pair of shorts. Kitty gets gourmet food and goes back into retirement.


SEC and I get an eyeful.

The pesky little bastard woke me up early, so we went out early. I grabbed a breakfast sandwich at the local 7-11.

We went to the park, which is near a bus stop.I had my cane and shades on. We sit on a bench and I break open my sandwich and open a can of food for Kitty.

At the nearby bus stop I watch a woman hand this fat broad something. She goes into the park. She pulls a 'Leggs egg' out of her bag.

She sits down on the bench across from me. Takes a quick glance at me and hikes up her skirt and promptly starts changing her panty hose.

I was looking into space. About the time she was pulling her panty hose up, I raised my shades and said:
"Hmmm. My kid brother's Basset Hound has better makings than you."

She lets go a scream.

"But I thought you were blind!"

"What ever gave you that idea?" I asked.

"You got a cane and sunglasses and a guide animal!!"

" It's bright out, this is a walking stick, and whoever heard of a cat as a guide animal? Besides, you made a really big mistake."

"What's that?"

"You thought."

Thank God the bus arrived.


The reason for no SEC tales recently.

02/10/2004 : 14:41:21

Kitty and I are laying low.

We're waiting for the heat to die down.

Boy, we really went and did it this time!

It's been a couple of months, and I don't see us rearing our heads for AT LEAST a couple more weeks.

We came DAMNED CLOSE to being on nationwide TV and giving a certain anti RKBA reporter some SERIOUS payback!

My recon sources tell me that we got reported to the PGH PD.(Who are probably ROFLAO’ing)


I’ll be damned if I know who this caller is. I figure he’s a cop, because he knew just about everything. This tale of woe would NOT be written if it weren’t for an anonymous phone caller. He called when I was at work, and made Mrs Pic pretty nervous. Mrs. Pic told him to call back when I was home.

He did, and filled me in on the details of what later happened in the TV station AND the Police station.

I respected his anonymity. I made no effort to *69 him or find out who he is.

I KNOW that the caller has visited this website. Maybe as a member, maybe as a lurker. I don’t know. I THINK he’s a cop.

Anyway, thank you, Mr. Caller.

******************************************************************************
This whole mess started as a trip to visit the vet. As I was leaving, neighbor Bob hopped in with me just to get away for a while. I had packed my white cane and shades because Dr Shirley thinks it’s funny to see us come into the clinic like that. It draws looks from patients.

Kitty was OK; this was more of a social visit. Dr Shirley had moved and her clinic was across town. I was glad to see her, and so was Kitty. After a brief visit, we left.

On the way back, Bob and I decided that we ought to eat and decided to reroute down to the Strip District. This is the area in Pittsburgh where a lot of good foods come into town, and is just about the only place in the area where one can get decent seafood. At least in my opinion. We decided to hit Wholley’s Seafood for lunch.

”Bring Kitty in with us?” asked Bob.

”Why not. We’ll get him a little piece of halibut.” I answered.

”Ever occur to you that the little guy might go nuts in a seafood place?”

”I planned on it”, I replied.

”A cat in a seafood restaurant oughta be more chaotic than 19 blind lesbians on a tuna boat! Oh, well, what the hell.”

I grabbed my cane, doffed my shades, grabbed the little guy and off we went. Kitty was making a beeline for Wholley’s.

None of us wanted to get booted out, so we played this deal pretty straight. Some boss type looked at us, but decided that he’d probably better shut up and take us at face value. A blind patron, his pal and his guide animal.

He even asked if kitty wanted anything and fixed him up with a very nice piece of baked halibut. Free. Pretty nice of him.

Bob and I had a cup of chowder and a pretty good fish sandwich. We all ate and left. Bob was chuckling that we’d gotten away with bringing Kitty in with us.

We were headed back to the truck when I saw her.

”Bob, target of opportunity, range 75 yards, It’s that damned reporter that raised hell at the match a while ago” I said, quietly.

”Oh, ****!¡” said Bob. And with that, he peeled off out of formation like a P-51 pilot after an ME-109. He vanished.

Kitty and I proceeded and the reporter addressed me. I played dumb and kept moving.

”Hey, you with the cat!” she said, loudly.

”Who, Me?” I asked.

”Is that a guide animal?” she asked.

”Now what do you think?” I answered, just on the edge of nasty.

”Would you like to see yourself on TV?”

”Whadda you, some kind of magic eye doctor?” I snapped.

”Oh¡¦ I’m sorry¡¦. Anyway, I’m a reporter from STUV-TV and we’d like to interview you. We’ve never seen a cat used as a guide animal and it might make a pretty good human interest story.”

Bam! Snagged the *****! Payback time!

A few years back when the media was playing the “militia scare” business up, this little twit had shown up at a local sportsman’s club and shot film of the rapid fire portion of the National Match course, zooming in on 2 National Guardsman and a Vet in BDUs. That evening it was aired in the context of being some sort of ¡ “Paramilitary training” going on in the area. The club came damned close to shutting down their DCM/CMP program for a while.

And here I had the *****! Cameraman and all. HAH! I’ll fix THIS twit!

So I gave her an interview.

I stood there with Kitty, and looked off center toward the camera and explained how Kitty had been trained by a retired Barnum and Bailey lion tamer, and that HMOs are starting to use trained cats instead of dogs, and in general, with a straight face, gave her the biggest crock of pure, 100% unadulterated first-class ******** that I’ve ever produced.

When the interview was over, Kitty and I started up the sidewalk. Neighbor Bob popped straight out of nowhere and rejoined the formation. He had pretty much heard it all and was laughing himself silly.

We drove home and watched the news nightly for the next week.

Nothing.


I went back to work and forgot about it. I guess they figured out that they’d been had and hadn’t used the tape. It became a dead issue.

I was at sea weeks later, and as I crawled out of the rack, my shipmate looked at me.

”Some guy name a Bob called. He says call home” He said.

I called. Mrs. Pic told me an anonymous caller that was looking for me worried her. She said that there was something about the voice that worried her a bit. She also gave him a date to call me.

I assured her things would be all right, and reminded her that the .45 was ready to go.

A few days ago, when I got home, the caller called again.

He told me that there had been chaos in the TV station a day after the interview. Just a couple minutes before airtime, the cameraman had run a computer search on the subject of “Seeing Eye Cats” and had gotten a link to ARFCOM. Chaos had reigned as they replaced the interview at the last minute with some copy they had on file about something or another. (Mrs. Murphy supplies Mexican Army with Clam Chowder comes to mind.)

Had the interview aired, there would be a good chance that a competitor would have aired it poking fun at the other TV station. This means it probably would have gone national.

The following morning the reporter stomped down to the Police Station demanding that the evil perp that had lied to her be apprehended. The desk sergeant took her complaint and told her he’d look into it.

(Right now my vision is in Black and White. Ol’ Sarge picks up a foot tall Mike: “Calling all cars, Calling all cars, Be on the lookout for a guy with a Seeing Eye Cat¡. Approach with caution! Cat has been reported to be an extremely vicious trained attack cat(Sirens start to whine. A Motorcycle cop adjusts his cap, pulls down his goggles, kick-starts the Harley and comes out from behind the billboard. I watch too much AMC)

Truth is that he most likely tossed the complaint into the trash can, or perhaps used it to entertain the oncoming shift during briefing.


He also asked me NOT to bring Kitty into the city for a while.

[dusty]

Well that was only great. Fell out of my chair at least twice.

A seeing eye cat. That's classic stuff.

Thanks for taking the time to post the SEC tails and I hope you'll keep us posted when the next excursion takes place.

Dusty
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Left and Wrong are the opposite of Right!

[DLI78]

ROFLMAO!!!!!

This is hillarious. Thank you for posting it.

My sister once had an attack cat. The cat liked to hang out on the cabinets in the kitchen (up near the ceiling). A burgler came in one day and the cat got pissed. He attacked the burglar, jumping onto his head and scratching away. The neighbors reported hearing a man screaming in pain and banging into walls before he exited the apartment in a hurry.

The cops never caught the guy, but we've been laughing at him for the last 20 years. That works for me.
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DLI 78
Army Linguist
1978-1986

[BuffaloJack]

The seeing eye cat piece was great. I really laughed.
One piece in it reminded me of a day 26 years ago when a doberman cornered my Mom's 8-pound Siamese on her porch. If the dog had ever gotten a bite, the cat would have been toast, but it didn't and the cat astounded everyone by attacking and killing the dog. Evidently nature gave them claws and fangs for a reason.
The piece above was a bit long, but a thoroughly enjoyable read.
Thanks for sharing.
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Swift Boats - Qui Nhon (12/69-4/70), Cat Lo (4/70-5/70), Vung Tau (5/70-12/71)