Our cat feared nothing. In all too frequent displays of machismo, he’d burst into the barn and launch himself at a posse of rats without hesitation: nobody messed. That’s why I was so upset when he left. If only I’d realised my brother had said moose and not mouse.
The cat eyed me. I eyed the cat. He’d the high ground and backup, but I wanted it more. I edged closer, eyes fixed upon my antagonist. He thought he had me. Wrong! I lifted my shades; he scarpered. Humanity one, cats nil. Nobody beats me in a staring war.
I stroked a catfish It neither purred nor meowed Only wet my hand