Amber Croft A Cat of Nine Tales
Well, you know how Bucks is – big snake, no rattle. It was up to me save his tail. There wasn’t time to think twice about it. I found a laundry room window the servants had forgotten to close and catapulted out onto the lawn being careful not to get my coat dirty.
Bucks was frozen like a deer in headlights. “Run dummy!” I tried to communicate telepathically, but it was like trying to read in the dark. Nobody home, and probably just as well. The Angel is fast and Bucks is more fat than fiber. The coyote was totally focused on what he thought was a free lunch. “Not today, dog breath.” He didn’t see me coming. I went into warp drive and was airborne by the time he did. I landed squarely in his stinking back and dug my claws in, holding on for the ride of my life. Where are those humans with video cameras when you want them?
It was like one of those cowboy bull riding contests Willie watches on TV. The cowboys are usually thrown off after a few seconds, but not this cat. The Angel bucked, barked and snarled, then went into a corkscrew maneuver. It seemed like the neighborhood was spinning around me, but I was locked on tighter than a gymnast’s spandex. With an evil snarl he headed for a pine tree hoping to scrape me off me off, but at the last second I retracted my claws and vaulted from his back onto the lowest limb. The Angel went pounding past, fumbling to a stop a few yards beyond, then turned and made a surprising leap up the tree truck frantic with rage. I wanted to go higher, but the next limb up was rotten. There was no way it would hold my weight.