They say Cats have 9 lives. I think Tiger (aka Fatty Cat) is getting close to his allotment. He continually tries his paw at getting into trouble and testing the age old theory.
He and his brother Shadow (aka Boo Boo Kitty) came into this world illegally. The mama cat came to a vet clinic to be spayed in 1998. When the owner was told the cat was full term with a litter, the owner replied that kittens were unwanted and ordered them to be put down. The vet tech secretly delivered the kittens and brought them to my place of emplacement. A qualified student took the litter and bottle fed them for 5 weeks. I took the two males. This is life 1 allowed for Tiger.
After having Tiger for one week, he unknowingly followed me partially through a sliding glass door. I shut the door on him. I thought I had mortally injured the poor little kitty. My neighbor, a Veterinarian, checked him out thoroughly. He was fine. This was life number 2.
A some point in the next few years, Tiger was trapped for several hours in a wooden trunk, (life number 3) chased by my pet Rooster (life 4) , a 30 lb cat thinks he can chase and eat anything, trapped on a farmhouse roof ( life 5), left in an abandon house by my ex for several weeks with only a bag of food, ( life 6) and several other little infractions: chased by puppies, mauled by toddlers, skydiving off bunk beds.
I even shipped him off to live with my oldest daughter last year to see if he could survive living with Lucy, the cat-hating dog. Tiger tamed that dog into indifference. They glared at each other for months or maybe that was another life used. (Number 7?)
Then again, yesterday I was going out the sliding glass doors. Shutting them behind me without looking I heard a cat hiss and moan. I turned to see Tiger squirming away and twitching his tail madly. (life 8?) You would think by now he would stay away from sliding glass doors.
Regardless the number of lives this gigantic cat has used, he seems to be resilient. He trudges on no matter the circumstances. I say this as the collie chases him for the hundredth time this morning up the stairs. He stops half way, to swat and smack her face: Always defiant in the face of diversity.
Maybe I should collect that fur he leaves all over the house, bottle it up and sell it as a Magic Life Potion. He may be on to something.
Warning Label: You will have a tendency to get trapped in sliding glass doors and glare at everyone. MEOW!
nepb
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