Cats Don’t Cry

That’s a perception. It may or may not be a fact.

Cat’s don’t cry. They dominate or die.

At least that is the belief I formed as a youngster.

It’s all because of Tiny.

Dad found a kitten. He brought it home because he knew Mom liked cats. Ostensibly it was for her and it did come to love her but pretty much from the git go it cottoned to Dad. This tiny creature could fit easily in one of his huge hands. It would lick milk from one of his gnarled fingers for as long as he would offer it up.

Within a short time it was nibbling raw hamburger the same way. Not long after he could no longer hold it one hand. The name Tiny stopped fitting that cat right about the same time because he grew and grew until he was three feet long from nose to base of tail. If he wanted your attention he would simply lean on you. In a hurry he would butt you.

Tiny’s favorite place was sitting like a statue of Siva on the back porch. He would sit, stock still, except for tiny twitch of the tip of his tail that had wrapped round him as he surveyed his domain. Make no mistake. The back yard was his and he jealously guarded it from all creatures great and small.

Mice and voles disappeared from the neighborhood. He was okay with neighborhood dogs if they stayed out of his yard. I watched him once when a neighbors Rin Tin Tin substitute made the mistake of trying to mark Tiny’s territory. Tiny went down the porch steps like silent water over cascade. He didn’t go into sneaker mode at all. He ran up behind the German Shepherd and leapt on his back with all his claws bared. He dug in and rode that poor dog in circles round the yard. He leapt off and the dog continued baying all the way home.

Another time the neighbors collie who had dominated the cats in its home decided it was time to increase its dominion. Not a good idea. Tiny had been patrolling and came across the Lassie lookalike. The dog approached him assuming he would flee. He didn’t. He sat straight up on his hind legs and when the collie decided to nip him planted his claws on both sides of the dog’s snout. I’m pretty sure you could hear the scream at the county line. The collie never returned.

His only real nemesis was a huge blackbird that would fly down and peck him on the back and the hind quarters. The family could never figure out what was stuck in that bird’s craw. But the attacks went on for weeks. Then one day Tiny seemed to be making himself available for pecking. He was, but Tiny had figured out that there was a sound of wings he could hear just before an attack. He was listening intently and when he heard that sound he whirled and leapt into the air slashing. The bird lost a lot of feathers Then it simply flew away never to return.

One morning Tiny didn’t come home.

I figure he went down fighting.

That’s not a bad life lesson.

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His consulting practice, founded in 1990, is known for Trust-based Brand development, Positioning and Business Development on and off-line.

Consulting: www.JerryFletcher.com
Speaking: www.NetworkingNinja.com