Thursday, October 13, 2005

The Saga of the Black Stray, Segment Two: Terror

When our dog passed away, our yard became overrun with not only the many stray cats, but also an occasional coyote or raccoon and quite a plethora of squirrels, birds, and rabbits. The later three we quite enjoyed, but the first two we could have happily done without.
However, if a cat stuck around for a while, it was, naturally, dubbed with a name. Most of them came with obvious names, such as Ringtail for the orange and white tabby that had such a peculiar grey and orange ringed tail; the black Sylvester, with his huge white bib and lopsided markings on his face; and Little Cat for the little gray tabby cat. The black stray also came with an obvious name. He was so muscular and lean and tough, with such big yellow eyes that there really was no other name for him than Bagera.

With all the animals around, it was really only Bagera that truly bothered our cats the most. My poor Lica became so traumatized that she was scared to death of anything black. On the rare occasion I would take her inside and up to my bedroom she took to creeping around, freezing if she saw anything black--even if it was a belt laying on the floor. Once when I moved said belt, she about had a heart attack, jumping and slinking stiffly backwards.

When wanting to go outside, both cats would slink up to the cat door and sniff for sometime before working up courage to poke their head cautiously out to look for any looming cats.
Bagera was quite bold and often hung close to the house. However he was completely terrified of humans. If he so much as caught a glimpse of one of us he was freeze for one split second, his eyes wide with the very epitome of terror. Then he would run with desperate panic.


Stay tuned for more enstallments of The Saga of the Black Stray. You can read Segment One: Overrun by Cats and Coons here.

5 comments:

'Thought & Humor' said...

We work like a horse.
We eat like a pig.
We like to play chicken.
You can get someone's goat.
We can be as slippery as a snake.
We get dog tired.
We can be as quiet as a mouse.
We can be as quick as a cat.
Some of us are as strong as an ox.
People try to buffalo others.
Some are as ugly as a toad.
We can be as gentle as a lamb.
Sometimes we are as happy as a lark.
Some of us drink like a fish.
We can be as proud as a peacock.
A few of us are as hairy as a gorilla.
You can get a frog in your throat.
We can be a lone wolf.
But I'm having a whale of a time!

You have a riveting web log
and undoubtedly must have
atypical & quiescent potential
for your intended readership.
May I suggest that you do
everything in your power to
honor your encyclopedic/omniscient
Designer/Architect as well
as your revering audience.
As soon as we acknowledge
this Supreme Designer/Architect,
Who has erected the beauteous
fabric of the universe, our minds
must necessarily be ravished with
wonder at this infinate goodness,
wisdom and power.


Please remember to never
restrict anyone's opportunities
for ascertaining uninterrupted
existence for their quintessence.

There is a time for everything,
a season for every activity
under heaven. A time to be
born and a time to die. A
time to plant and a time to
harvest. A time to kill and
a time to heal. A time to
tear down and a time to
rebuild. A time to cry and
a time to laugh. A time to
grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones
and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a
time to turn away. A time to
search and a time to lose.
A time to keep and a time to
throw away. A time to tear
and a time to mend. A time
to be quiet and a time to
speak up. A time to love
and a time to hate. A time
for war and a time for peace.


Best wishes for continued ascendancy,
Dr. Howdy

'Thought & Humor'

P.S. One thing of which I am sure is
that the common culture of my youth
is gone for good. It was hollowed out
by the rise of ethnic "identity politics,"
then splintered beyond hope of repair
by the emergence of the web-based
technologies that so maximized and
facilitated cultural choice as to make
the broad-based offerings of the old
mass media look bland and unchallenging
by comparison."

purple_kangaroo said...

Looks like you got your fist spam. :)

Brandi said...

First, purple_kangaroo...first. LOL

Okay, but seriously, I feel so bad for Lica! I'd be scared too! I did have a cat that was so scared to go outside, she'd sit on the windowsill and cry at me until I came and grabbed her from her perch and brought her in.

purple_kangaroo said...

Yeah, first. I do actually know how to spell it. This typing one-handed and sleep-deprived thing isn't working out quite flawlessly yet. :)

Amy said...

lol, I didn't even notice you spelled it wrong. I thought Brandi was just saying LOL to your comment. :-D