this post was submitted on 04 Jan 2025
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The first cat I had (as a teen on my own) was the most amazing character. We used to go on walks to a corner store and she'd patiently wait for me while I shopped.
One day on our walk back from the store I saw her stop in her tracks, and then she was gone. I looked ahead and saw that some friends had decided to visit ... and they had brought their dogs.
Psycho wasn't your typical female cat. She was territorial as hell and protected her turf with a ferocity of a lion.
By the time I got to the house she had managed to terrorize the hell out of those three dogs, then wrap herself around the muzzle of one while biting his nose. That poor dog was screaming and swinging his head back and forth trying to shake Psycho off ... to no avail.
I was finally able to pry her off and she promptly ran through the old milk chute to hide in the basement. My friends decided the best thing to do was take their dogs home to nurse their small wounds.
Needless to say the dogs never visited again.
Omg we had a Maine Coon as a pet when I was a teen. Go look them up, they are big. I heard yelping one day and say him hanging onto the neighbor's dog's tail and swinging around in the air. The dog stopped pooping in our yard after that. Then once I heard my mom yelling in the back yard. There she was being chased by the cat who probably thought it was lots of fun. I asked my mom, "What did you think the cat was going to do? Nibble on your ankles?"