"Cats Invade Nebraska House, 3 Injured"

[Warning. The following post contains one of the Seven Words You Can't Say on Television. I thought about editing it out, but it didn't seem to work as well.]

I can't resist this headline.

Why do people put up with cats, when it comes down to it?

I've mentioned before that I had a big black cat named Hoss. Many of my friends referred to him as The Beast. When Daryl Ann and Non-Blogging Sister visited me in Cambridge, we watched Hoss stand still and stare, transfixed, at a corner for more than a minute. "What on earth is he doing?" I asked. "Getting instructions from Satan," Darryl Ann replied.

Since Hoss actually attacked Darryl Ann during the night and scratched the side of her face, I've sometimes wondered whether she was right about that.

Hoss once received mail -- not from his "Master" but from my family's beloved German Shepherd, Stanzi. The outside of the card had a picture of a German Shepherd that looked very like Stanzi. The inside of the card contained a simple message, which read as follows:

"Dear Hoss,

Eat shit!

Stanzi"

Say what you will about Hoss, but he did arouse strong passions in those who knew him.