Caturday is for Tara!

By now you've probably seen the video of the 4-year old boy in Bakersfield, California, who was viciously attacked by a neighbor's dog and who was saved by the family cat, Tara.

According to reports, the cat was a foundling who was accepted into the family before the boy was born.

I've had cats as companions all my adult life, and as wonderful as they've all been, I could not imagine either of them doing what Tara did.  Dogs?  Yes.  But a cat that went after a dog attacking a child? Never heard of that.

My two beloved marmalade cats, Miss Pettipaw and King Yellow Man (named for a Jamaican Reggae singer),  lived long and happy lives (both lived 21 years) and were remarkable in their own particular ways.  Miss Pettipaw was the cat we had when my children were little; and no matter how they picked the poor thing up or disturbed her frequent cat naps to either dress her in doll clothes or put her in a little red wagon for a ride, she never once scratched or hissed at them. Such patience!  Such a gentle, sweet-natured cat.  

Our second cat, King Yellow Man, was also a good-sport, a tolerant cat who enjoyed being petted even by strangers, but was also an indescriminate hunter who dragged into the house all sorts of prizes for us to admire: garter snakes, rabbits, toads, and something that was an indistinguishable combination of fur, vegetation, and possibly intestines.  

One night my sleep was interrupted by a loud crash I heard coming from the kitchen.  Too sleepy to find out what it was, I decided it was only Yellow Man, doing his usual racing around the house at that time of night or jumping on the counters, knocking over a pan or its lid.  The next morning as I was doing some vacuuming, I noticed what looked like an large gray "dust bunny" under my Queen Anne chair in the living room.  As I bent down to examine it, to my horror I discovered it was a decapitated squirrel, with its head neatly placed beside the body!  So THAT was the ruckus I heard during the night. Somehow the poor squirrel had gotten into the house (it was not unusual during the day for someone to forget to shut the door off the kitchen that went out into the yard). Yellow Man apparently took off after the squirrel when it emerged from wherever it had been hiding during the day, caught it, and bit off the poor thing's head and, of course, left the gory mess for his mistress to clean up.  Men!


No matter.  Here's to cats and the wondrously inscrutable things they do (like leaving hairballs on pillows or knocking spice bottles off the kitchen counter just for the hell of it) and best of all, for being loyal and loving friends.  

And to you, Tara, for your amazing heroism in protecting your little boy.