The Evil Kitty

There was an evil cat that lived across the street from us in Vallejo. He was a big fat orange tabby that acted liked he owned the neighborhood. He would wander around the streets all day…only changing his rebel ways in the evening as he grew tired and hungry.

We loved to bark at that fat cat out our front window. We don’t think cats are particularly smart, but this one knew we couldn’t get to him no matter how much we wished we could or how much noise we made. He would meander across the street and sit on the sidewalk in front of our house just to tease us. It drove us crazy, especially Brownie. I would howl and growl and bark as loud as I could, but the evil cat wouldn’t budge until he became bored and felt he had tortured us enough. Then he would get up and slowly slink away like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Mommy knew how much we despised that cat. So one day she came home with a present for us: a STUFFED Evil Kitty toy for us to chase and chew and rip apart.

That was five cats ago. You see, once my instincts kick in, I (Brownie) can’t stop myself. Sometimes I’ll start on a limb, other times I’ll goes straight for the squeaker ‘heart’. But every time I get one, I work it—licking, tugging, chewing, digging. And you know I won’t be satisfied until kitty parts are scattered about.