Something happened this week that inspired this post.

I was in bed at an obscenely early hour (7:00 PM if you must know) and I was reading a book, winding down from the day. Suddenly I hear this horrifying, growly yowl from right outside my bedroom window. Since I never like to walk into a situation unprepared I got up and grabbed a flashlight, a spray bottle full of water, and my pocket knife.

When I got out to the backyard, our cat was locked in a life-and-death struggle with a big yellow cat. They were kicking and scratching and biting each other, and paid no attention to me as I walked up to them.

Obviously I started to spray them both with the spray bottle. They yellow can ran away, and our cat followed him. He appeared on the front porch later, completely unharmed and not very grateful that his mama finished a fight for him.

It’s like The Jungle Book around here.

This is Harvey, our yard tiger. He used to be an indoor cat, but was languishing inside, so we let him out one day. He refuses to come back inside (unless there is food around).

This is Harvey as a wee little Walmart kitten. The Renaissance Man picked him out of a cardboard box outside a Walmart in the middle of nowhere.

And here he is now, prowling the back yard.

He is still mad at me for chasing that yellow cat off, by the way.

The Wife