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The Adventures of Brat Cat

by

Clive Michie

Yah it’s that time of the year again, and I can be guaranteed to have wet frozen fur for the next 6 month. Hello I am Purr but I hate that name. The other human calls me brat cat – I like that handle much better, it’s me. Let me explain. It all goes back to the day I met the dog down the street, I will tell you this that there has never been so much saliva on four legs. There can’t be, he should be added to the wonders of the world list.

I was out doing my rounds and checking up on kin in the area. I turned a corner and there it was the largest dogs in the world or so it looked. He stood towering over me with a massive chest and jowls that hung like icicles off a roof on these cold winter days. In that split second my defenses kicked in. I did not turn to my ninja training causing fur to fly or try to befriend this mangy mutt. No sir I turned and ran like hell. I have a few areas on this block where it is easy to loose a dog but there is one house across the street, an old abandoned house that is a god sent.

This house had many features for escape, small holes in long runs of fencing, a skirted building on a 12 inch footing and this is where I received my training from an old tabby called Can Banger. Can banger was steel grey in colour with orange eyes. Born on the street and never having had the luxury of a soft warm and clean home but he always claimed he was better for it, but we knew him to be lonely on the street as he was getting old and wanted company in his harder years. He delighted in calling us house cats and comfy cat or hey free lion and hey nice fur soft kitty but the worst was here kitty kitty kitty and then sneering. But we all loved and respected him, he was pure fee lion and he loved to add accent to the lion part.

When ever any of our fellow furs where in a difficult spot he had answers. He made it his job to teach the art of escape from would be predators. The most important lesson ever taught to me was that the dog’s legs are not built for cornering they work best in long straight stretches and they have bad breaks. So never run straight ahead. Another great lesson was that the dogs are bigger but will still try to access the same hole that you do. He warned us that dog had incredible vision and could see a mussel in your right front leg relax as you prepare to make a hard left and some dogs use this to great advantage over their inability to corner.

My heart accelerated as my legs took over pounding the grass with a forty percent increase in heart beat this was exhilarating. I remembered what Banger had said to get traction and cornering it all claw action so with 30 percent claw on the rear and 50 on the front I bolted. Taking the advantage of a smaller claw to throw bits of grass and twigs in the face of my pursuer, that’s the fun of the run that’s what Banger says. I made a hard left and through a hole in the fence that would give me about one second advantage because the fence ended four feet from there. The mutt came around the corner in a cloud of dust and I swear to god I could not see the sun for a moment. I bolted for the house where bed springs and other debris like branches where stored in a pile and I ran under. Now in most cases the dog would make an attempt to follow or find a way around but this dog and seemed to know better. Some thing very strange about this dog that I could not put my finger on, something made this hound different from the norm. The dog jumped over a five foot high pile of garbage eleven feet on the horizontal like some kind of super dog.

Who was it that said exit stage right – well that’s exactly what I did under the skirt of the house in over some plumbing – around a footing and out to the other yard, this yard was well fenced and would prevent this hound getting to me and I could even walk the six foot fence and snicker at the mutt.

I emerged in total safety or so I thought I was in the yard and looking around I seen that this house had been sold to a family called the Doberman brothers I guess their names to be Ken and Nel. Looking around I seen a mutt then another and then another they where all different sizes and many bigger then my last pursuer. The mood was one of shock and terror and yet a tranquil horror seem to freeze my body to the ground and in slow motion I did a three hundred and sixty by one hundred and eighty reverse barrel roll and with one hundred percent claw I turned to run at the hole – where is the hole where is it oh my god where is the hole.

I woke in a fee lion sweat with rapid breathing and legs twitching to the sound of a moving truck next door. Wow only a dream I raised my head and looked out the window from where I lay and spotted with horror a family called Doberman Kennel moving in across the street in to the old abandoned house.

Part Two

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