35 The great cat fight

Last night I woke up in the wee hours to the less than melodious sound of a cat screeching. When I fell asleep Tigger had been on the bed next to me, cuddled up against my hand. I checked immediately to see where Tigger was and he was no longer where I last saw him. I immediately got up and checked all his usual sleeping places and could not find him. In the meantime I continued to hear the cat in the back yard.

I could picture Tigger, all 5 ½ months of him, defending his yard against the much larger cats in the neighborhood. I tried to see out into the back yard but saw nothing in the dark. I went back into the bedroom to look out into the side yard. As I tried to see out the side window I heard noises behind me and turned to see Tigger slowly getting down from the window sill at the head of the bed. He was stretching and looking at me like I must be crazy running around the house in the middle of the night.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have and that was why I was worried about you. You are a big strong cat now but you really are still a kitten in age. I think it would be better if you would wait until you got older to take on those really big tom cats."

""That's sort of the way I was looking at it. Besides, it's cold and dark out there and it's nice and warm and cozy in here. Maybe that cat is just wishing he could be in here where it is comfortable and safe instead of out in the cold. That would make me howl."

"Guess you're right. Anyway, I sure am glad you are safe inside in the warm cozy house instead of out in the cold dark mixing it up with another cat."

He gave a little shiver and started grooming himself. He saw that pesky tail that is always hanging around his rear end and attacked it... sort of proving he could take care of himself... and found he was not taking care of himself at all but was attacking himself. He tried again to act like he really intended to do that and groomed his tail. I got back in bed and soon he was back cuddled around my hand which was on top of the covers. I love to feel his purring as well as hear it. Soon it changed from purring to little grunts, squeaks, and almost whistles. He was again fast asleep and I followed his excellent example.

Of course, the fact that we were up in the middle of the night didn't keep Tigger from his normal early chore of waking me up. He is a dedicated cat.

Later in the morning we made the usual trip to the Post Office. On the way home he said "I was wondering about something."

"What?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

"You put that stuff on the back of my head to keep fleas off of me, right?"

"Yes, that is a fact." I said, still not having the least idea what he could possibly be getting at.

"Well, why don't we just let the fleas get on me. You could collect them and keep them in a jar or something." he said as he scratched nothing in particular, just the thought of having fleas.

"I suppose I could do that but why?"

"We just drove by that new place ‘56 Flea Market' and I was thinking it would be a great way to make a little money. You could sell the fleas to them." he said as he danced around on his perch in the truck.

I knew I didn't want to know what he was getting at. Oh well, so this was it.

"There is just one little thing wrong with your otherwise great plan. They don't buy or sell fleas at the flea market."

"They must. Just look at the name. You aren't going to tell me that a flea market has nothing to do with fleas are you?"

"As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I'm going to tell you."

"No way! They have to buy and sell fleas. Why else would they call it a flea market?"

"I hate to tell you this but it is another one of those things that humans do with names. It has nothing to do with actual fleas."

"Don't tell me, it's another one of those human.... things...."

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