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Patty and I take the Terrible Trio (Mac, Sasha, and Willoughby) to Manhattan beach today. We find a secluded area where we hope no one will notice we brought forbidden critters. Willoughby and Sasha we keep on leashes, but Mac minds well enough we let him run loose.
Has anyone else ever noticed how much seagulls hate cats? I didn't know that, as Dickie Smothers used to say.
Anyway, I bring a sack of Fritos, because gulls just love those. If you work at it you can get them to eat out of your hand. So Patty and I stand there tossing Fritos up in the air like confetti until we have quite a crowd of shnorrers hovering and squawking and fighting for the single pieces we are throwing by now. As they get closer we quit throwing the Fritos and just hold them out in our fingertips for them to snatch on the fly.
While Patty isn't looking I put one in her hair. One gull, more daring than the others, swoops down and snatches it up, along with a hank of hair. Patty screeches and grabs her head. The offending bird flys away, and once again I bait Patty's hair. Again some brave soul grabs it, along with the obligatory lock of hair.
By now Patty is throwing the Fritos at the gulls, hard as she can, and the birds are getting louder and rougher.
Mac is doing his best to protect us from the squabbling horde (sounds like the checkout stand at Wal Mart's when someone tries to cut in line), rushing at the noisy intruders and barking out his remaining brain cells. Willoughby is entranced, ears, eyes, and tail on full alert. Sasha just watches, getting more and more agitated, until finally one of the flung Fritos lands nearby, and a foolhardy gull almost lands right on top of Sasha's pointy little head.
With the battle cry of the born warrioress (yes, there is such a word) Sasha launches herself right at the bird, who is so surprised it just stands there and lets Sasha catch it.
If you consider that, at least in bulk, the bird will make two of my cat, it looks like a case of be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. Or in this case, be careful what you chase, you might catch it.
The bird flaps its huge wings and actually gets a little airborne before I grab Sasha and pull her loose. Damn, that cat is mad. Potty mouth (she's been hanging around Patty) cat stands there and screeches insults at the departing bird, then turns and snarls at me! I guess I should let her keep her trophy, but I'm not sure who had whom.
Editor's note:
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