View Single Post
Old January 31, 2001, 06:24 PM   #20
Spectre
Staff Alumnus
 
Join Date: October 23, 1998
Location: ATL
Posts: 3,277
My little American Eskimo has caught up with at least two possum. One played dead. The other stood his ground, leering evilly. This was out at Spartacuses' family's cabin, so I had my Sub-9 on me (coyotes, you know). Was talking myself into letting the critter go when he growled at me...Blam!

Stardust has been known to be right behind squirrels when they hit the tree, and stands on her hind legs, trying to climb after them. If she was close enough, she starts a loud, shrill, frantic whine- a virtual little doggy ecstatic fit- or something.

When I lived in Roswell, I noticed that Stardust's food seemed to be disappearing very rapidly from her bowl outside. I finally saw some paw prints around her food in the garage. Figured it was a cat. Well, one night, I'm opening the rear porch door to let her out. She bolts out, right after a big coon. He was nearly as big as she was...He made the tree before she caught him, but he turned around, a few feet up, with a mean glimmer in his eye, and came back down the tree after her.

Now, understand, my little 22-lb dog has been ambushed and royally whupped by a little juvenile cat. We were walking in our apartment complex one night (a year previous) when this cute but skinny little kitty jumps out of the bushes, and does that "whirlwind of destruction" move on my dog. Stardust was on a leash, and tried to run, but we were close to a fire hydrant, and her leash was tangled. So, my dog is running in circles around the hydrant, screaming at the top of her lungs, while kitty kicks her @ss, but good. Took me a minute or two to get myself in between. After I took my shaking, crying, dog home, I went back out. I found the cat. I followed the cat up the tree. I was gonna kill the little bastard for the unprovoked attack on my dog. Had the cat at max height in tree, with my big CS folder ready for the draw cut, but that little cat just froze. Good for him- you remember the possum.

So, anyway, I had no illusions who was going to win the fight, a 15-lb coon with an attitude, or my little Malibu Barbi of a dog. I ran back inside, to my room, and was paralyzed- which firearm to choose? Mr. Glock was handy, but after I second, I thought I should go for as little noise as possible, just to avoid dealing with the hassle of a police visit. I settled on my 10/22, and frantically thumbed in some Dynamit Nobel subsonics, and ran toward the back door, with a bad feeling in my stomach.

Stardust is standing expectantly at the back door (I'm a good girl, daddy! Look what I did! This is MY yard! Who's house is it?), fluffy tail wagging. Not a scratch on her, that I could find. Well, we all have something to be thankful for...
Spectre is offline  
 
Page generated in 0.03277 seconds with 8 queries