Dear Wakita

Dear Wakita,

I’m basically a mutt person, not a cat person, but I have a very deep sense of appreciation for your species. Abbi Gale Grey Tail was my favorite cat of all time, and she taught me much about who you are, and what it means to be in service to a feline.

 Abbi was much more of a hunter, and a fighter, than you are. I don’t mean to disparage your skills, but Abbi could have made a living hunting, and made lesser predators suffer for their proximity to her. Unlike you, she would not take up with just any human who happened along. I didn’t choose to keep Abbi, she choose to stay with me. Abbi kept people off her and did it well. She was beautiful, but as I explained to people, people who had just ignored my warnings about not touching Abbi, just because she was beautiful didn’t mean she wanted attention. I handed out band-aids to the hard of hearing, and those who would not listen. 

 Abbi played rough. People would ask if I put up barbwire fences as a hobby. Abbi didn’t think it was fun unless blood was shared. Abbi considered play to be combat training and expected anyone playing with her to act accordingly. Abbi would leap up at a person’s face and take a swipe and draw blood. I learned to anticipate this and would knock the hell out of her when she tried it. The last time she did it, she cut my lip open on moving day. That was her vote against leaving.

Abbi fought dogs until she realized there are times that standing your ground meant becoming a sitting target. A Bulldog damn near tore her leg off when she cuffed him, and regardless of the scar he might have for his trouble, Abbi had to go to the vet to get her wounds stitched back up. Abbi fought as hard as seven pounds of feline could have possibly fought, and she still lacked what it took to keep a determined canine at bay. You don’t have what Abbi had, and Abbi didn’t have what it took. You might want to put that in the front of the line of things to remember if you have plans of surviving this winter.

I cannot police the interaction between you and Sam at all times. Staying close to me is not necessarily a good idea. Your very best bet is to find somewhere about seven feet high, ( think bookcase)get there, stay there, and ignore the fact that Sam is watching you.

If you get near the dogs’ food bowls I would suggest that certain theological question you might entertain will be swiftly answered.

 You’ll notice that Bert sits all of this out. It’s a mistake to assume it’s because he doesn’t want to kill you, and it’s a worse mistake to think that Bert won’t kill you. Bert simply isn’t a fanatic about it. Bert listens to me when I tell him not to kill you, but the fact that I’ve had that conversation with him more than once ought to suggest a few things to you. Sam is your best bet when it comes down to it. Sam will kill you quickly. Bert isn’t interested in killing as much as he is the thrill of the chase and the sport of it. You don’t want an animal with the bulk that Bert carries being interested in sport when it comes to your death. What is much more likely to happen than not is that you’ll do something to provoke one or the other and before you realize what’s happened, you’ll be dead. Your feline mind doesn’t carry the concept of teamwork when it comes to hunting, and Bert always, always, always, takes up position when Sam stalks you. That’s why Bert doesn’t actively hunt you. He’s planning for you to assume that he isn’t much of a threat, and if you break towards him it’s over. I’ve seen this before, and it is never pretty.

 If you can stay out of Bert’s way and Sam’s reach I can keep you alive for quite some time, and you’ll enjoy your stay with me. You’ll learn the dogs can protect you from other predators and as life goes on, they will accept you as part of the pack, perhaps. I really like the dead mice you bring to me, and I want you to know that I will trade you food for mice as long as you can keep it up. Please remember those mice stand a much better chance of survival against you than you do against either one of those mutts. Sam will kill you, Wakita, and if he gets a good shot at you it will happen before I can scream. T

ake Much Care,

Mike