You know what I love? I love stepping out onto the patio and finding two neighbor girls waving a stick about 3 feet in length at my cat while shouting "Bad cat! Bad cat!"
The cat (this one--does she look bad to you? She looks downright docile to me, not to mention as fat as a good roasting chicken, but then I am biased) remained a good 10 feet away from the girls and appeared unfazed by their stirring lecture. She was too busy licking raindrops off blades of grass. You know how some cats are so frightened of strangers they run from the sight of them? This is not that cat. She did look over her shoulder at me briefly only, as if to say, "These kids? I don't know what they're talking about. I am not a bad cat. When's school start again, anyway?"
Me, though, I don't like kids waving big sticks at my cat.
"Do not tease my cat," I said, aiming for the voice my mother used to use on me in such situations, not that I was ever an aspiring animal torturer, "or I will contact your parents about it. Is that clear?"
"I wasn't doing it," came the immediate, injured response from the girl waving the stick.
Why are little children such awful liars? I don't get it. Did I or did I not hear you say, two seconds ago, "Bad cat?" Are you or are you not thrashing that stick in my cat's general direction? Crikey.
"Your cat's out here," she added. HELPFUL!
"I am aware of it," I said crabbily. "I suggest you leave her alone. She isn't bothering you."
They wandered off shortly after that, no doubt to tell their parents about the Mean Lady Who Yelled at Them. Pfft. That's a reputation I can live with, especially if it means they start playing on the opposite side of the lawn from me.
Just don't fuck with my cat, neighbor girls. I, Crazy Cat Lady, have spoken.