KILLER KITTY

About two weeks ago, I was out walking with Mighty Dog. Suddenly from my car port, a HUGE cat strolled out, giving us the fish eye. This was not a wild cat but was the tallest domestic cat I have ever seen.

My first thought was that Mighty was totally outclassed and I started hollering for him to leave it alone. He could not win this battle but try telling a terrier that. They spied each other and the race was on. This was so reminiscent of the night Mighty tangled with a strange dog  and I knocked the poor little guy silly with my flashlight

They tore off to the same corner of the property and the fight was on. Very quickly however, Mighty let out a scream and came out of the bushes like he had been scalded. The huge cat had snatched him a good one on the nose making him a true believer in cat power. Super Cat disappeared into my neighbors pasture and has not been seen again.

Mighty recovered physically but not mentally.

The other morning as I was walking with Mighty, I heard a cat cry on my back porch. “Oh crap.” I thought, “Here we go again.”

I followed Mighty around the corner of the porch and there was maybe a pound and a half of fur in defense mode. It was about an eight week old kitten with every bit of its fur at attention and doing a really good Halloween cat imitation by standing on its toes.

My fierce little terrier with a nose still remembering, barked but kept a healthy distance from the tiny creature. Mighty definitely had learned respect.  I snatched Mighty up quickly and put him in the house. When I came back out, the kitten was gone but I was pretty sure it was still on the property. I did my best “kitty, kitty,” but no response so I put some dry cat food in a bowl next to the water fountain and left.

Later the bowl was cleaned spotless so I knew it was still around. I have a humane trap that I use to catch errant raccoons, possums, and armadillos that  decide to take up residence under my porch.  I baited the trap with tuna that night and set it out.



This is what I found in the AM



 As soon as I approached the trap, tiny paws with every claw exposed shot out of the cage as far as they could go, accompanied by a spit that would have made Super Cat proud. I gave the little terror plenty of room and tried to decide what to do.

I did not want nor did I have room for a kitten. A friend of mine with the Humane Society put me in touch with a cat foster. Our Humane Society is quite small so they enlist fosters who  care for the excess animals till a home can be found. Really a wonderful solution. The foster named Pat, agreed to take the kitten so we decided to meet at Walmart for the transfer.

Now comes the part I am not particularly proud of. You know from previous posts that I have faced down pit bulls, German Shepherds, Rottweilers and of course the ever vicious weenie dogs. Dogs do not usually scare me and I have learned how to handle them. Only rarely was I attacked and never during a rescue. 

I will  admit, I was intimidated by this small creature. I could just envision those tiny claws carving up my fragile old skin. It was very stressed by the trap and I was the main threat. It wanted a piece of me. 

I once saw a judge at a cat show leave the building on a stretcher after a cat went to bonkers on him. I am a believer. What was making me the most nervous was that the little fellow was trapped. That rarely brings out the sweetness in an animal.  

So I broke out my gauntlet leather rose gloves and prepared meet the foster.

Pat, whom I had talked to on the phone is a delightful lady. We had a long, easy conversation and I told her how amazing I thought she was but she said the wonderful one was her husband who put up with the cats and had built the holding pens. She might have a point.  

When we went to transfer the kitten to her carrier, the scared little baby, went to the far end of the trap and wasn't about to leave. So I broke out my gloves, cranked up my courage and reached as far in as I could to try to grab it. Being short also means short armed so I was just inches from reaching the little one. I was actually relieved.

Pat started to reach in and I offered my gloves but she pooh poohed that. Teasing the kitten with a bit of rope, she coaxed it towards the opening, gently but firmly she wrapped her hand around its chest and made the transfer with no hiss, no claw , no problem. Seeing that small kitten in her hand made me feel rather small myself. Had I really been afraid of that tiny kitten? Yep.

I got her permission to post her picture so here is Pat, the brave woman who brought the killer kitty down.

People like Pat and her husband, who put time,money, energy and caring into the protection of animals are my heroes.

I guess the moral here is that if you need help catching a stray dog, I am your person.  If it involves handling an itty bitty kitty, look somewhere else.  Most of us have our  Achilles'  heel.  I found mine.

Do you have one?