Beloved jumped out of bed. Crap! Is that MaeMae?
Me: chance’d be a fine thing.
Beloved: Shut up, honey, you know you love that cat.
I snorted. Like I love going to the dentist.
The cat streaked along the fence, screaming “INCOMING!!”
Flinging herself into the house, panting, el feline was shaken up.
Cat: F😳ccccck! That flying rat bastard nearly got me!
Beloved: I think a hawk tried to take her…
Me: poor hawk. I bet she did some damage.
Cat: F’in’ got that right! I damn near took his f’in’ foot off!
Later, we realized MaeMae’s toes on her front paws were bloody, but otherwise, she succeeded in fighting off the raptor. She stayed inside for the next two days, though – I think it really sent her off kilter.
Coming almost immediately on the heels of her encounter with the predator, we had another visitor… but not a guide dog puppy.
Cat: Oh, what the hell.
Coco, the white maltipoo, had no idea MaeMae was nearby. At 15, she’s deaf and has cataracts. However, Coco’s honker is sharp as ever.
Sniff. Snnnniiiiiiiiifffffff…
Dog, eyes narrowing: Cat nearby.
MaeMae: No shit.
Dog, crouching slightly, eyes narrowed: can’t quite make… out… where…
Cat: Over here, ding dong.
Me: Could you NOT call the visitors “ding dong”? It’s so rude.
Cat: seriously? What would YOU call her?
Me: Coco. Sweetie pie. Puppy girl.
Dog: you say something?
Cat: case in point.
Coco’s come to visit while her daddy is having surgery. She’s a lovely girl, bounces around, gleefully pouncing on god-knows-what on the lawn, you’d never know she’s this old. She’s especially a game old girl given she’s not at home and her person isn’t here. She’s definitely making the best of it.
And she’s crated at night. She’s never crated at home – she sleeps with her dad. However, we already have MaeMae in the bed, and Coco is a cat chaser extraordinaire.
She’s quite amazing. She gets whiff of the cat and immediately flings herself in the vague direction of the scent, irrespective of the fact she doesn’t see particularly well. She can see enough that she knows there’s steps, and I think partly, she’s memorized the back garden.
Not fully realizing the extent of the dog’s compromised vision, MaeMae takes off like a rocket, cussing up a storm. The fearless pup keeps after her, but MaeMae can leap up walls and over fences.
Coco and I got back from visiting her dad today. We left before Beloved and my mom, who went to the theatre, and got back before them too.
Ten minutes after we got home, I heard an ominous, feline growl.
Cat: Back. Up.
Dog: you smell something? I smell something.
Cat: oh dear god yes. I know you aren’t sufficiently evolved to be able the clean your face, but why the hell don’t you let the can openers do it? Your eyes are disgusting.
Dog: you hear something? I heard something.
Cat: oh my god.
So as Coco waddled toward her food dish muttering about what she was hearing and smelling, I hustled the cat behind the baby gates so if she got oriented, she wouldn’t chase the cat.
No worries on that count. Miss Coco promptly passed out.
Examining Misadventures 