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I might be a scaredy cat but I love to play outside in my back yard. I iz sweet and cute. |
Meet Ranger, my dashing Irish Setter. Playful, curious, and full of adventure, he is an alert hunter who is always on guard for any signs of excitement.
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This back yard belongs to me. Don't mess. |
Today, I was sitting on the couch, working through some problems for my upcoming trigonometry class. Yes, this is what I like to do on a Sunday afternoon. Ranger was curled up beside me, dozing lightly yet still on red alert for any clues that something interesting might be about to happen.
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Just remember, Mom, cosine is positive in the first and fourth quadrants. Wake me up if you need any more help.. |
The cats, as usual, were scattered here and there throughout the house and yard. It's hard to keep track of those slinky dudes.
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Let's be honest. We own these beds. |
Suddenly, there arose from the backyard the unmistakable wailing and yowling that can only mean one thing:
CAT FIGHT.
At the first set of screeches, my pen froze in mid-air and Ranger's head popped up from his paws. His ears tilted into maximum listening position as I quickly put my kitty voice recognition skills to work.
Yes. I have such things. Every good kitty mama does. And I immediately knew that one of my babies was in trouble.
After a momentary pause, a second round of pandemonium broke loose. Ranger bounded off the couch and landed at the back door in one smooth, seamless motion.
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Lemmeout, lemmeout, lemmeout!! |
We both saw right away that poor Sirius was indeed the victim of a feline perpetrator. In the garden at the far edge of the yard, a neighborhood cat was pinning Sirius down and doing heaven knows what to him behind the cover of some faded hosta leaves.
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No, it wasn't a stone bunny. It was a big black cat and it was hurting me! |
For his part, little Sirius saw his opening. As the attacking cat zigged to the right, he quickly looped to the left, cutting a wide berth around Ranger and dashing to the back door for all he was worth. I scooped him up as he crossed the threshold, and he quivered and shook in my arms.
Poor little baby.
I walked him around the circuit of the house, just as I used to pace with my distressed human babies, cooing and soothing him. Still, the dear fellow trembled and squirmed. So I set him free to seek out his own safe place, and he quickly slipped underneath my first-born's bed.
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This is my favorite bed because the red and white comforter brings out my extreme handsomeness. |
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Mission accomplished. |
And we can only wonder what became of the other cat.
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I've written more stories about my cats. But wait. That doesn't make me a crazy cat lady, does it?
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