Here is proof that I do have three cats. Forget the fact that when anyone visits they race away in terror and hide under the bed. They are very, very shy. I shall talk about them all in time.
This is Kathryn, my daughter Jeanne's cat, who was fearless and indomitable and lived to the ripe old age of 17. She ruled whatever household she was in her entire life. Yes, she was little and skinny, but it didn't matter. Kathryn was supremely confident. When this story happened, we had a small dog, a little bunny and another cat. They all accepted Queen Kathryn as their sovereign ruler. At that time we lived in large house with a screened lanai with many plants--in other words, a pet paradise.
During a howling storm a strong wind blew part of the screen off the roof of the lanai, but the storm had moved on by nightfall. Our beloved dog Cece had been "holding it" for hours and really needed to go out. So we walked a few blocks, crossed the busy street and walked down the sidewalk toward home.
Suddenly, out of the tree above us something fell on my head and stayed there. I screamed, Cece barked and we both ran around in circles while I frantically tried to dislodge whatever foul thing had landed on my head. I felt claws digging into my scalp. Oh, Lord have mercy! Cece was wildly racing around me, barking hysterically. Terrified, I put my hand on my head and felt fur! It was probably a possum. A rabid possum! Screeching like a mad woman, I shook my head back and forth until a dark shape fell into my arms. Two round green eyes floated in the darkness.
It was Kathryn.
Tiny Kathryn who had seen her opportunity for an adventure and had taken it. She had climbed up the screen of the lanai, crawled out the hole, crossed a busy street and climbed a tree where she had a panoramic view of the neighborhood. When she saw Mommy walking along with that dopey dog, it seemed like a good idea to jump down on her head and surprise her. Mommy was surprised all right. Her heart has never recovered.
|Queen Kathryn with one of her subjects|