Classic TAZ Adventure 11

No Lesson from Experience

Like air traffic controllers at major airports, Robbi and I have developed a highly, sophisticated, transit system of rotating various dogs and cats about the house. Necessitated by various encounters, combats and vet bills, this coordinated effort maintains an environment where certain elements of canine and feline do not combine. In chemistry, the latter would be like taking a large block of pure sodium and dropping it into a bucket of water. The resulting explosion would level the block.

Thus far, it has worked admirably with only a few, minor, personal items and furniture being trashed by dogs out of boredom or frustration.

The Amazing Chessie, the cat that survived the feline version in the renowned magic trick of sawing a female in half via Taz, stayed outside last night. Taz was inside the house this morning so that Ninja and Megan could enjoy the back yard in peace without Taz instigating a fight between them for fun. When Robbi left for work, she opened the door and there stood Chessie waiting to come inside. Being an obstinate cat, she deftly sought to avoid the quickly, closing screen door and the obstacle course of feet positioned to refrain her access.

Suddenly, there appeared Taz. He also cleverly navigated around legs and arms keeping him from the screen door. Then, their eyes met. Two adversaries: mortal enemies. One who tasted bloodlust, the other who had almost tasted mortality. Two feet apart with nothing but an unlatched screen door between them...plus two humans standing right behind them holding our breath and hoping for time to intervene if the animals’ next choice emerged as a purely emotional one. Translation: we were ready to nab Taz if he should decide to be dumb. There arose that instant, a mutual sizing up of the opponent, remembrance of the previous encounter, the fight or flight emotions, and adrenaline surging...and....

CHESSIE FURIOUSLY ATTACKED!!! The little, gray tabby roared to the screen door, leaping frenetically upon it, aggressively hissing, four legs flared out like a flying squirrel against the screen; her little legs, claws and teeth bared for an onslaught. "DIE, YOU BEAST, DIE!!" One could feel the heat of her fierce expression.

Taz was monumentally caught between being momentarily stunned and mildly bemused at this display and did nothing for a moment. He held his head down, partially crouched in the "I'm a wolf" hunter pose. My hand quickly secured his collar. He lunged, but only about two inches. Chessie's manic expression of ferocity removed itself about as quickly as she did, leaping back about two feet. A new expression of "Get a grip, Kitty! What, on God's Green Earth, did you think YOU were trying to prove!?!?!?" But since cats are not allowed, by law, to communicate errors in judgment to dogs or humans, she quickly recovered long enough to arch, bristle, and flash the fangs once again before departing.

Taz, strapped with a narrow focus, still resolved to get to the cat, long since departed from the other side of both, the screen door and the now closed front door. As the dog devoted himself to an occasion-- by this time long ended and removed, Robbi and I chuckled as she headed off to work.

It is often a lesson, observing pets. It can be humorous and insightful, witnessing the grudges and persistency of thought that blind them.

We as humans though, are much the same, minus the mirth, when we pursue anything from perceived slights to overt animosity with similar, zealous fervor. Reacting impulsively, we are blinded to the fact that we emulate Pogo’s infamous quote, "We have met the enemy and he is us." The problem issue may be of our own manufacture. Ironically people follow the same emotional path as our pets, reaching the same conclusion, and probably more frequently.

Logic and calm determination are the rewards of an independent thinking process. Occasionally I see a glimmer of that in myself and our animals, particularly Taz. But, not today.

And now that I've finished this story, I think it's time to go downstairs with my cool logic and calm determination, and pry the unflagging Taz away from the door where he's still searching for that darn cat….

Scott, Robbi…and--still hot on the trail of the vanished kitty…Taz

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson