I was awakened in the middle of the night with the sound of my dog barking his head off. That isn’t all that unusual because when he needs to get out he stands at the door and barks. What was unusual was him rushing through his doggie door, yelling at the top of his lungs. Lately Jackson has been demanding that the human door be opened for him. I have been teasing him about losing his mind, and becoming forgetful in his old age. I thought he had forgotten all about that doggie door.
It turns out there was a cat in the garage, and Jackson was more than a little irritated about having his space invaded. I don’t think Jackson has ever gotten close to a scared cat, one of which he quickly cornered. The tabby behaved exactly as a one would expect a cornered cat to behave. A cornered cat is dangerous. As soon as I was able to get my hands on Jackson, I removed him from the site, and opened the garage door to let the frightened invader back out into the night where he belonged.
Jackson got the worst of it. His ear was wet with cat slobber. His mouth was bleeding from a cat scratch, and he was favoring one paw. And he was mad at me for breaking up the fight.
Since I’m a political junkie, I was reminded of the fight between Romney and Gingrich. Even though dogs and dog lovers everywhere would ban Romney from their company, in my mind’s eye, he became the dog-a pampered dog who has spent his entire life sleeping on silk pillows and prancing at elite dog shows. Gingrich became the scrappy cat, cornered and fighting for his life, using every sharp tool at his disposal.
I hadn’t planned on watching the billionth GOP debate tonight, but I just may change my mind.
Yesterday Gingrich made the round of morning talk shows, having licked his fur back into place after his most recent alley fight with a newscaster. He even wore the colors of a tabby, with a yellow silk tie neatly in place, disguising the ruffled fur of a seasoned fighter. The fangs were hidden, and the sharp claws had been placed in neutral position. It won’t take much to corner Newt, and the fur will fly again. He is feeling cocky because he won the most recent scrap.
But it is Romney who has the owner with the means to send the invader back out into the night. Romney might have a few cat scratches, but the elitists aren’t interested in sharing their pampered space with a stinky old alley cat.