His Days are Numbered
Our family is being stalked by Big Mean Kitty. He apparently took a much-needed shower and hopped on a plane to Houston so he could greet us at our cousins’ apartment this weekend upon our arrival. He arranged himself strategically in the entry hall with his rear end up in the air–the better to freak me out.
Our cousins, The Globetrotters (the most well-traveled couple I’ve ever met), tried to convince me that they had just purchased this Big Mean Kitty at their local grocery store, and that I shouldn’t take its pristine appearance and precise positioning personally.
In her attempts to persuade me that this Big Mean Kitty was a harmless imitation of the homicidal one we had left (I thought) at home in San Antonio, Mrs. Globetrotter went out the next morning to find one for us to take home. The last one at the store was purple instead of orange, only somewhat alleviating my suspicion. Just because the Houston grocery store near our cousins is the only one on God’s green earth that still sells those dog toys doesn’t prove our own Big Mean Kitty hadn’t kidnapped and gagged their new one so he could continue his quest to make me appear mentally unhealthy.
It did help the Globetrotters’ case, though, that they have two dogs of their own. I mean, it would have been really weird if they had a Big Mean Kitty and no dogs, don’t you think?
Lola, their Boxer, was quite fond of Big Mean Kitty #2. She pranced around with it in her mouth, basking in our compliments about her amazing predatory skills. I think, however, that her obvious pride had less to do with any affection for the toy than with her desire to flaunt it in front of her little brother, Monté, the Terrier.
Monté saw his chance when Mrs. Globetrotter brought the purple kitty home. He was quite certain this new toy would be for him, and was very disappointed when I put it in my suitcase, and carefully zipped it most of the way, assuring myself that Purple Kitty would not be able to make his way out and learn bad ideas from Big Mean Kitty.
Five minutes later, out into the living room pranced Monté with the new Purple Kitty. The zipper may have deterred Purple Kitty from escaping, but did not keep Monté from working his way into suitcase. According to Monté, zipping your suitcase most of the way only works when you have boring stuff like underwear in your suitcase.
After Purple Kitty was safely zipped all of the way into my suitcase, poor Monté was again toyless. Well, actually, he had tons of toys, but being shut out of two Big Mean Kitties seemed to destroy his interest in anything else.
To console him, Mrs. Globetrotter brought out a new toy, a kind of miniature version of Big Mean Kitty stuffed for some obscure reason into an ice cream cone.
Both dogs immediately lost interest in Big Mean Kitty and began to fight over the new one. Cruelly tossed to the side without a backward glance, Big Mean Kitty watched from the floor as Monté and Lola played their game of Brains vs. Brawn over the mildly disturbing Kitty in a Cone toy.
Monté knows he cannot win against Lola’s viselike teeth, so he has (with Mr. Globetrotter’s coaching) perfected the sneak attack, lulling her into complacency until she begins to lose attention. As soon as her focus breaks, he sweeps in to swipe the toy away. Only to drop it immediately when Lola leaps up and towers over him.
And so, the game continued. Monté and Lola played their parts tirelessly while Big Mean Kitty sat there and plotted his next move. The introduction of Kitty in a Cone was but a small prelude to the fate that awaited him when we returned to San Antonio. Purple Kitty was about to usurp BMK’s control of the Wonderbutt household. Intimidation was no longer enough. It was time for a new plan…