Stumps the Cat got her name when an overeager six year-old pulled the end of her tail off. They were playing hide and seek, and Stumps, then called Nancy, had hidden too well. Reaching as far into the hamper as he could, the young boy felt fur, grabbed it, and pulled as hard as he could. When he saw that he was holding half a cat tail, the little boy screamed and immediately passed out.
Hopping out of the hamper and stepping gingerly over him, Stumps swished her half-tail and said, “Ryahr.”
* * *
The story of how Stumps escaped the house later that night is very exciting and scary, and frankly is too much for you, little girl. I will tell you that story when you’re older. For now, let’s just say that the McKittrick family spent a lot of money on home repair and psychiatric help that year.
As you know, Stumps lived on her own for quite some time before coming to live with us. She told me all her stories when she first arrived, as part of her extensive interview process. I’ll tell you my favorite, the story of how Stumps chased all the stray dogs out of El Dorado Park.
* * *
Stumps, like all cats, loves grass, trees, and duck ponds more than anything else in the world. So it’s only natural that she quickly found herself living in the biggest park in the city: El Dorado. She would happily fritter her days away rolling in the grass, climbing trees, and eating ducks from the pond. Eventually, the stray dogs caught sight of her, and though they took pity on her because of her tail, word inevitably got back to Bruno, the head dog of the park. He was not a sympathetic dog.
“This cannot continue,” he barked. “A cat playing in our park? People will laugh us deaf if we let this stand. I want that cat out of here, tonight.”
“Gnyahr,” yawned Stumps across the park, settling down into her bed of ivy.
* * *
Bruno had sent his best three dogs to make sure Stumps didn’t spend another second in El Dorado, but there was one thing he hadn’t counted on: feline ingenuity, and Stumps’ keen night vision. Again, little one, this part of the story is better suited for far bigger ears than yours, but we can safely say that three dogs went limping back to Bruno with their tales between their legs and a paw across their noses.
But this just made Bruno madder. And when Bruno got mad, Bruno schemed. He stayed up all night, and when the sun rose over El Dorado’s lush green fields the next morning, Bruno said he had a plan to make sure Stumps was gone before the dew dried.
* * *
Stumps was crunching dead leaves between her paws when she first heard the noise. Advancing fast was a circle of dogs, like the ones she’d chased away. Bruno’s voice called from behind them: “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but I do not allow cats in my park. You’ve got ten seconds to get the heck out of here, or I’m going to tell all of these dogs to tear you apart.”
Stumps cocked her head.
“Well?” asked Bruno. “What will it be?”
“Mrgnah?” Stumps said, quizzically.
“Get her!” Bruno hollered, setting his poorly-formed dumb dog plan into motion. The whole ring of dogs jumped at once, and Stumps had to use all her feline strength to leap above them, twisting her head to look down at them from above, so she could better hear and see their heads bonking together like so many empty coconut shells.
She landed on one of them, swiping at his nose, then jumping from dog to dog, giving each one a ferocious swat on the snout. Soon the dogs had all fled, and it was just Bruno and Stumps. Bruno tried to pretend he wasn’t scared, but as he backed away his voice trembled as he told her, “I’ll be back for you, ugly. Even if it’s just me. Nobody does this to me.” Then he turned and scuttled out of the park.
Stumps went back to crunching dead leaves.
* * *
After that, Stumps was queen of the whole park, and all the cats who came to live and play there thanked her. “Finally,” they said, “we cats have a place to call our own, a place where we can be free of worry or fear.”
“Nyarh,” Stumps purred majestically in reply.
Labels: Stories, Stumps the Cat
