a post about pussy

From Arn, my buddy in Florida who's about to feel the wrath of my asshole (see previous post for link to photo of my asshole as it prepares to attack the east coast), a lengthier goyang-i iyagi:

I'll give you yet another interesting cat-tale. Years back, I shared a house with a buddy named Stacey. His younger sister had this fecund feline who seemed to love littering above all else, and since it never seemed to be a good time to get her fixed, she multiplied. Stacey had gotten stuck with an interesting orange/gray tabby named Tigger. Tigger was one of those "cool" cats. If he wanted petting, he bugged you till he got it. If he didn't, leaving him alone was best. Tigger was a big, well-formed cat, and apparently a formidable fighter, because he never seemed to come home injured.

About 2 litters after Tigger, I got a beautiful jet-black long-haired female I named "Arwen", after Arwen Evenstar, the Elf-princess in "Lord Of The Rings". Arwen, as it turned out, had undersized and late-developing male genitalia, but it was too late to rename him when I finally noticed this.

He had bright green eyes and, when full grown, that raven hair was 5 inches long. Beautiful cat. When he was little, he'd bother Tigger as much as needed to get someone to play with. I watched one day. Tigger would swat him and run a short distance, then look back to see if Arwen was chasing him. If not, he'd go back and smack him again, if so, he did this interesting movement where he'd tuck his head under and do a forward roll, ending up on his back with his head toward Arwen. Arwen, being young and clumsy, would be unable to stop until he was on top, whereupon Tigger would grab him with all 4 legs and nip at him incessantly. I'd never seen this behavior in cats before, and I noticed Tigger kept it up until Arwen began provoking him, and Arwen learned the same maneuver.

A couple years later, I had moved to my own place. I was sitting in my back yard with my new wife, watching the sunset, when Arwen came streaking into the yard, ears back, legs flying, a German Shepherd right behind him. As soon as he gained a yard or so of distance between them, Arwen did Tigger's head roll, and as soon as he was under the dog, proceeded to clamp his (unfortunately for the dog) male genitalia with his front paws, buried the back claws into whatever meat was handy, and started yowling and biting. I could see the white fangs occasionally.

The dog, needless to say, was doing a credible imitation of a rodeo bucking bronco, back arched, hopping around, wailing, trying to bite Arwen's tail as it whipped between his front legs, ANYTHING to shake that cat loose. Nothing worked. Arwen wasn't letting go. Period. The dog finally flopped on its side and tried kicking, but Arwen just bent his legs to tuck up close, and continued biting.

The dog got back to his feet and with a violent shaking, finally got the cat off him. Arwen squatted close to the ground, looking more like something out of hell than the nice cat he normally was. He'd drawn quite a bit of blood, and it was smeared all over his face. His ears were back, he was hissing and growling.

By then I was close enough to interfere if the dog attacked again, but he wanted no part of this hellcat. He headed for home. Ever see a guy with a sore groin try to walk with is legs spread wide? It's funnier when a dog does it.

(Sidebar: We do NOT pick kitty up immediately after a trauma like that. He's focused on one thing, and that's destruction. We sit and talk calmly to him, tell him what a good, brave kitty he is, give him a chance to get reoriented to the normal world where he's a predator rather than prey. Once the craziness is out of his eyes and his ears are forward and his tail quits twitching, THEN you can handle and baby him. Unless, of course, you LIKE parts of your body resembling a bloody jigsaw puzzle.)

A male cat named "Arwen." Well, things could be worse. There's a trend in America in which parents are giving their kids gender-neutral names like Cody and Carson. I can't stand this. It's bad enough that I occasionally can't figure out if my Korean correspondent is male or female based on the name (this happens only rarely, but it happens), and I don't like bringing this confusion back to the States with me. In any case, it might be better for a pet's self-image to adopt a gender-neutral name, especially if the pet eventually gets neutered.

My next cat will therefore be called Chewy Tumor.
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