NEW YORK — Taking refuge from the heat of an unusually humid early June day, cats and dogs alike were gathered around the neighborhood’s most popular watering hole when their quiet lapping was disturbed by a kittenish, falsetto-like meow.
“Coming through!” Buddy the Cat yelled. “Make way!”
The silver tabby ordered everyone to “vacate the premises,” declaring the water his “personal drinking spot.” One of the toughest cats on the block, a battle-scarred orange tom named Buster, continued drinking.
“Ahem!” Buddy said loudly. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. Vacate the pond, Buster!”
Buster eyed Buddy derisively. “Or else what, pip squeak?”
Buddy pretended to file his claws nonchalantly.
“Or else my jaguar is not going to be happy,” Buddy replied.
Buster began laughing, then caught sight of the enormous apex predator and backed up warily.
“That’s right!” Buddy said. “Back up if you don’t want to become a light snack, Buster!”
Ek B’alam, Buddy’s jaguar friend, raised a paw sheepishly.
“Um, do we have to threaten violence? I’m not interested in hurting…”
“Shhhh! Yes, yes we do have to threaten them!” Buddy whispered. “Let’s see that intimidating pose you do…great, now roar!”
The jaguar let loose a primal rumble, sending every cat, dog, bird and squirrel within a mile running for cover.
After enjoying a leisurely drink with the pond to themselves, Buddy and Ek B’alam took a lazy route to a nearby dog park where the pair terrorized a pitbull and a gang of Dobermans.
Witnesses said Buddy strolled into the Doberman circle, needled the dogs with insults and told them they’d have to hand over their treats promptly or face dire consequences.
“Oh yea?” the canine leader said, his tail twitching with anticipation. “Says who?”
“Says my jaguar!” Buddy said theatrically, holding both paws out like a magician.
The dogs paused, looked at each other and laughed uproariously.
“Get outta here, you pudgy little…oh! Oh! He’s really got a jag…I mean, I d-d-didn’t…”
Buddy feigned indifference as Ek B’alam padded out from behind a tree. The dogs emptied their bladders.
“You were saying something about me being pudgy, weren’t you? We don’t like insulting little mutts, do we, Ek B’alam?”
“No, we do not, Buddy,” the big cat replied.
“Sometimes we eat them for breakfast, don’t we, Ek B’alam?”
“Yes we do, Buddy. Better than bacon and eggs, with an agreeable aftertaste!”
The dogs whimpered, tails between their legs.
“Leave your toys and treats and scram!” Buddy said, making the canines flinch as he faked a leap toward them.
“You were right, this is kinda fun!” Ek B’alam said as he ate the dogs’ snacks. “Who do we terrorize next?”
Buddy rested his chin on his right paw thoughtfully.
“We could rob Los Gatos of every ounce of catnip they possess. We could put the fear of God into those ‘hunters’ who shoot at our puma buddies. I also have a revenge list of everyone who ever insulted me on the internet. That could be fun!”
As of late Tuesday night, local police scanner frequencies were buzzing with reports of two cats, one small and the other enormous, gleefully tearing apart industrial vacuum cleaners at a nearby Stanley Steemer shop.
Pain In The Bud 