Last night when I got home I let the cats out. And within an hour, I heard what sounded like an epic cat fight going on in the neighbor's backyard. Little Girl came tearing up the stairs, flew into the house, and stayed in the rest of the night. The Runt came in a little later, minus his collar and with a bloody paw.
My last cat, Rocky, was a fighter. And while rabies shots are generally good for three years, I don't think even a year ever went by without him getting a rabies booster, as the vet would give him the shot as a precaution each time I brought him in for post-fight repairs. That cat probably had enough anti-rabies serum in him to keep four cats vaccinated.
Rocky didn't care who he fought with. Cats, dogs, woodchucks, skunks - it was all the same to him. Although as far as I know, he only tangled with a skunk once before learning that particular lesson. And he didn't stop fighting once he was "fixed" - he kept fighting his entire life.
I am hoping that The Runt learned a lesson last night, and will stop messing with other animals. But I'm not counting on it.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
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