So here's the second funniest thing that ever happened to me involving a feral cat:
Cow, as you know from the Y&F backstory, is the Big Daddy of the ferals, the Adam Chandler of cats. Cow does what he wants, when he wants, wherever he wants. He walks on all the porches, sits on people's grocery bags, and will take your Dunkin Donut if you leave it unattended.
LSS, he's the big cheese. To make his point, he walks back and forth across the streets, any time, all the time, rain or shine, day and night and afternoon, no matter the traffic. It's a macho thing, a boast to other male cats. "I'm not afraid of these cars. They can drive up my street, but I'm the boss of them." I can't count the number of times he's crossed in front of my car so close to the wheels that I almost ran him over. One day he will be killed by a car. And when I bury him, I'm going to put on his tombstone: "The Boss of Cars".
So after three years of Cow walking in front of my car every time I'm on the block, I drive no more than 3MPH up my mother's street.
One late night, I drove Mom home from wherever. I pulled up in front of the house, let her out, and waited until she got in safely and locked the door.
I turned the ignition, put the car in drive, and was about to step down on the accelerator when Cow appeared in front of the car. ARGH! It was a warm, very quiet summer night and my windows were wide open so that the young Asian couple passing by heard every word when I screamed out, "There's that d--n COW again!"
By that time, Cow, the stinker, had disappeared between cars. All the young couple saw was a crazy woman jump out of her car, bend over and start looking under the parked cars. For a cow. They quickened their pace and got off that street ASAP. -JD
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