"We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike." ~Maya Angelou

Saturday, June 17, 2017

What Needed To Be Done


   


     The rifle jammed the other morning while I was out shooting at bottles and cans.
I took it over to my dad to help me sort it out. He took it apart, cleaned it, figured out the problem, and we put it back together.  That last part sounds so simple when I write it like that but, in fact, it took us more than an hour trying to figure it out before we Googled it. After that it took us 30 seconds.  We are both in the wrong generations to have thought of that earlier.  *sigh*
      Anyway, I brought the gun home and crept around the yard, morning and night, looking for the pesky cat that has been terrorizing my cats, but had no luck.  I might see him, but he would slink off into the underbrush (of which there is a ton at this time) before I could get a clean shot. He liked to head toward the propane tank or a parked car.  I took to always parking the car in the garage, which for me is a novel idea AND I really, really do not want to shoot the propane tank. (Oh, by the way, that demon cat succeeded in raiding the Wren's nest and eating all the baby birds the other day.Yeah, there's that.
     Then one evening I fed the cats and heard a little bit of yowling shortly thereafter. I ran (okay--walked incredibly fairly quickly), got the gun, and slipped out the other door.  When I peaked around the corner of the house THERE HE WAS! so I threw the gun up to my shoulder and fired away, giving not a single thought to the propane tank. (!) As luck would have it I hit the cat...twice...as he flipped and flangled his way through the gardens and under our little foot bridge. Then I didn't hear anything.  Nothing happened for a long time over there by the bridge, which I took to be a good thing. I watched from the porch.
      After an hour or two, Marsh and I turned the bridge over and found a huge armadillo hole under there but no cat. Well, what do you know!   I assumed he had run down into the hole, so I filled it with dirt, stomped it down, and resettled the bridge on top of it. Done and done. I have not seen him since.
     My two cats seem much more relaxed these past few days.  Dead-eye-Deb rides again. It's not a skill I have call to use very often, but once in a while it comes in handy. (This picture is not of Dead-Eye-Deb; this is a picture of Annie Oakley, a young woman who really could shoot like nobody's business. I think we look a little bit alike and are probably related.)
  
P.S.  Note to people in town:

 STOP DUMPING YOUR CATS BESIDE  HOUSES IN THE COUNTRY.
WE HAVE ALL THE CATS WE NEED AND WE END UP HAVING TO SHOOT THEM FOR YOU. (This is first day stuff, people.)

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