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We took Maccabee with us today in the car, which required installing his collar, bright red. This pup has quite a sense of style, and that bright red color just puffed him up no end.
When we came back Mac strutted around, showing off his pretty collar to the kitties, turning his nose up at their more plebeian bare necks. Finally I could stand it no longer, and as Mac was closer to Patty than to me, I asked her to take the collar off. She did. Willoughby immediately thrust his nose closer to see what this was all about, so Patty tried to put the collar on him. She only got the tip started through the buckle when Willoughby shifted into reverse and retreated at full gallop. Patty turned him loose, so actually the collar was loose enough Traveller could have fit in there with him. But to Willoughby it was the noose of death.
He started squalling and running, tail in the air, and ran right into Sasha who was asleep on the floor. She sprang to her feet hissing and snarling, further terrifying poor Willoughby, who ran back the other way and bumped into Maccabee, sending him sprawling. Traveller ran up the ladder and watched from a safe vantage point on top of the book shelves.
Willoughby tried to run under the couch, but he's been too fat for that for over a year. When he backed out, he left the collar underneath the couch.
Meanwhile, Mac took advantage of the confusion to bolt out the front door, down the steps, and out into the night.
Mac is not the brightest light on the Christmas tree, and he's as apt to run into traffic as not. So Patty jumped up and ran out behind him. She stopped on the edge of the porch and peered into the darkness. "Here, Mac. Come here, Maccabee. COME HERE, YOU LITTLE $%&^#." Potty mouth.
Not surprisingly, Mac was able to resist her tender blandishments and endearments. She even scared me, and I was in the house.
A few years ago I installed motion detectors on both front and back porches. They worked fine up until recently, but I guess the sensors are getting dirty. Sometimes they don't come on right away, so you have to wave your hand or something to activate them.
So Patty waved her hand. I mean, she couldn't see three feet into the darkness, and she needed some light, so she waved her hand at the sensor. Nothing happened. She waved again. The same thing happened as happened the first time. I was watching from the front door. She waved both hands, then both arms. Nothing. She jumped up and spun around and waved both arms. Nada. Getting madder by the minute she started dancing frantically around in circles and waving both arms like a Calypso dancer and screaming insults at Maccabee and putting on a pretty good show.
When she showed signs of flagging, as if she might be getting tired, I reached over and flipped on the switch for the porch light. It took a moment for it to sink in, and she continued her frenzied dance for another few seconds. Then she stopped and looked at the various neighbors standing on their porches watching her and applauding. Mac stood at the bottom of the steps and grinned at her. He seemed to enjoy the show as much as I did.
Patty spun on her heel and ran in the house. Mac and I sat on the porch for a while, actually, quite a while, and enjoyed the cool night air. Of course, it was a lot cooler IN the house for several days thereafter.
Editor's note:
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