Amber Croft A Cat of Nine tales
The Pine Cone Ploy
Well, you know how Bucks is - big snake, no rattle. It was up to me save his tail. There wasn’t time to think twice about it. I found a laundry room window the servants had forgotten to close and catapulted out onto the lawn being careful not to get my coat dirty.
Bucks was
frozen like a deer in headlights. “Run dummy!” I tried to communicate telepathically,
but it was like trying to read in the dark. Nobody home, and probably just as
well. The Angel is fast and Bucks is more fat than fiber. The Angel was totally focused on what he
thought was a free lunch. “Not today, dog breath.” He didn’t see me coming. I
went into warp drive and was airborne by the time he did. I landed squarely in
his stinking back and dug my claws in, holding on for the ride of my life.
Where are those humans with video cameras when you want them?
It was like
one of that cowboy bull riding contests humans watch on TV. The cowboys are usually
thrown off after a few seconds, but not this cat. The Angel bucked barked and
snarled, then went into a corkscrew maneuver. It seemed like the neighborhood
was spinning around me, but I was locked on tighter than a gymnast’s spandex.
With an evil snarl he headed for a pine tree hoping to scrape me off me off, but
I retracted my claws and leaped from his back onto the lowest limb. The Angel went
pounding past, fumbling to a stop a few yards beyond, then turned and made a
surprising leap up the tree trunk, frantic with rage. I wanted to go higher but
the next limb up was rotten. There was no way it would hold my weight.
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