The pastel calico cat calmly sitting on the hood of my car glared at me when I suggested she move. She flicked her tail and began to wash one paw in defiance, pretending to ignore me and when I moved closer she stood with her back arched, hissing softly and daring me to reach for her. I suspect she is related to one of my own on account of her distinctive coloring and heart shaped face, and it's clear she sees the car as her territory - her paw prints are on it each morning - nonetheless, one of us had to give in and establish some ground rules. Reasoning with her wasn't working so I got in and turned the key and she promptly turned her back. This, I decided, was no common cat.
Slipping the car into reverse, I began to slowly back out of the driveway, certain that the motion would force her off but instead she crouched down and began swiping at the windshield. I stopped and started suddenly and she yowled but refused to move. Having no intention of losing a battle to a neighborhood cat, I got out and approached her, warning her off and threatening her with severe consequences. She stood her ground with a menacing growl. You're leaving me no choice, I told her with reluctance, Get off the damn car! She sat back down and commenced to licking another paw, unconcerned and indifferent but watching me all the while. Hearing my voice, the black dog suddenly appeared at the window and went into a spasm of barking and the cat whirled at the sound - seizing the moment, I snatched her up and tossed her unceremoniously to the ground where she landed with a satisfying thump and an ear splitting cat scream of indignity. And stay off! I told her triumphantly. Victorious and more than a little smug, feelings I would have cause to regret later in the day, I drove off.
She was back at lunch, curled up and asleep on the front steps, between me and the front door. She opened her eyes as I came up the walk but made no move to leave. Her tail switched and I could hear the low hum of a growl. I decided to change tactics and spoke to her in a reassuring voice, as you would to a stubborn and fearful child. The low hum went up an octave but still she made no move. I knelt on the walk in front of her and explained the situation but she was unimpressed and continued to watch me with her narrowed green eyes, an expression of hostility clear all the way to her whiskers. I could go in the back door, I reckoned, or try and step over and around her, but I had a suspicion that giving in to this cat would establish a poor precedent in our relationship - if I allowed her to gain the upper hand, I sensed she would keep it. I nudged her with my foot and she swatted at me, the growl now louder and more definite. I reached a hand out and she hissed without giving an inch.
To be clear, I will not even pretend (even though it would be my word against their's) that I have never been outwitted by a cat, however, to be outwitted by a cat who shares my bed and board is one thing - to be outwitted by a trespassing cat with an attitude is quite another. I broke off a branch of the crepe mrytle and ran the leaves across the steps and the she immediately gave chase. As she passed me I gave her a quick flick on her hindquarters and mounted the steps - she gave me an injured look with a hint of malice and then plunked herself down on the concrete walk and attacked the branch mercilessly. I slipped inside when she wasn't looking.
Twenty minutes later, I left again and I admit, thought about using the back door and decided against it. It is, after all, my house and the cat was the intruder. The steps and the yard appeared to be all clear so I gathered my keys and purse and headed for the car, daring to hope that she had moved on to the next neighbor and might not return. I soon discovered that this was not to be - for on her back on the passenger seat, enthusiastically shredding the day's mail, was the cat. Speechless with surprise, I pulled open the car door and grabbed her by the scuff of her neck and hauled her out - too stunned to struggle for an all too brief moment she hung there, suspended in mid air, then regained her composure and began to defend herself, claws flying, her entire body flexing and writhing at impossible angles, flailing at me and making sounds that would've awakened the dead. Using the only weapon I had, I said a short prayer that she wouldn't leap back into the car, and dropped her. She turned in mid air and landed on all four feet, undamaged but enraged and - I suspected and hoped - a little humiliated. She shook off grass and dirt and with a look that clearly suggested she had not yet begun to fight, stalked off across the street and disappeared over a fence. Feeling foolish but vindicated, I watched her go, knowing that I would encounter her again and wondering which one of us would win the next time.
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