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The Cat and the Evil ParakeetParakeets were “in” during the winter of 1952, and my little brother David had his heart set on one. On December 24, Mamma, Daddy, and I went to a parakeet breeder, paid $7.95, and brought home the pretty green bird we had reserved. The parakeet was hidden in the back bedroom overnight, but, in the early morning dark of Christmas Day, the softly glowing bubble lights on our tree revealed the birdcage on the living room floor among the other gifts.At six that morning, Daddy and Der Doc the cat came into the house after milking the cows. Der Doc always supervised as Daddy and the hired man milked. He was rewarded for his efforts with a bowl of fresh milk and a good many compliments from Daddy. Pussycats can tell by your tone of voice that you are complimenting them. They love compliments and believe every one. Therefore, though Der Doc was a rather ugly grey tiger-striped cat, he believed he was good looking. He further believed that he was a superior member of the milking team. The Superior Milking Team of Daddy and Der Doc stepped through the living room door side by side, heads held high. Der Doc saw and smelled the parakeet in the same instant. Without thinking, he instinctively made a flying leap across the room and onto the cage. And, without thinking, Daddy instinctively gave Der Doc a boot with his foot that sent him flying. Our good-looking member of the Superior Milking Team did not believe for a moment that Daddy, who was so very kind, had given him the boot. Clearly we had an evil bird, one who could, from inside its cage, send a cat flying. Der Doc never again stayed in the same room as the parakeet. This inconvenienced him a good deal, particularly when the parakeet flew into the room while Der Doc was asleep on the living room sofa. He nevertheless stuck by his motto, “Better safe than sorry.” ----------- Enjoy our cat mystery sleuth and find gifts and stories for cat lovers, at Janette Blackwell’s Cats and Flowers, http://catsandflowers.com -- or visit her at Food and Fiction, http://foodandfiction.com/Entrance.html
My favorite place around here are the two porch swings, one on the front of the house and one on the side. A porch swing, with it’s gentle sway creating a cooling breeze and of course it’s squeak is a great place to gain perspective. Don’t underestimate the value of the squeak because swinging without the squeak is like dancing without music. This life lends itself to lots of decision maki. . .
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