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Writing Again
10-15-2004, 03:01 AM
My neighbor across the street has two birds.

One is a duck named Quacker and the other is a chicken named Pecker.

It is seldom clear who is following whom, but Pecker and Quacker are never more than 3 feet apart from each other at any given time, and are usually less than a foot apart.

They are territorial and will gang up on anyone besides the owners who invade their property, including dogs, cats, horses, and people.

lastr
10-15-2004, 05:47 AM
They are territorial and will gang up on anyone besides the owners who invade their property, including dogs, cats, horses, and people.

I bet they chase the poor mail person around their truck. :jump

I used to have ducks that came up to the back door and banged on it with their beaks when they wanted to be fed. (Which was about every half hour when I was in the house.)

ChunkyC
10-18-2004, 10:36 PM
I had a friend ride a horse right up to my front porch once. Considering we lived on a suburban street, it was rather disconcerting. Nonetheless, the horse was fine until it saw our 28 pound orange tabby cat.

My friend managed to hold on as the horse galloped off down the street, and I got the poo off our lawn before my parents got home, thank goodness. :grin

Writing Again
10-19-2004, 01:33 PM
28 pounds of orange tabby?

Garfield, run for your life.

Yeshanu
10-19-2004, 08:08 PM
For once I can say that someone else's cat is bigger than mine...

Kempo Kid
10-20-2004, 08:08 AM
Wow. Even my huge Maine Coon is only 17 pounds.

You sure that wasn't just a small cougar? Or maybe the horse thought so. :b

ChunkyC
10-21-2004, 12:46 AM
His name was Fang.

My family had him from the time I was eight in 1963 until his death thirteen years later. There's still a hole in my heart. For those who read my post about the foxhound that would carry kittens around, he was one of the kittens.

Yes, he was huge. My mom used to say that when he died, she was going to get him made into a pyjama bag. His white tummy would get dirty from skimming the gravel of our driveway. We were tempted to strap a roller skate around his waist whenever he went outside. The kitchen floor was always nice and shiny.

Despite his size and name, he was the most gentle, loving creature I ever came across. Okay, except for the squirrels in our back yard who would tease him by coming down the tree trunks and chattering at him. Fang would hide behind a blade of grass (yeah, a 28 pound orange and white cat on a green lawn ... the original stealth bomber, baby) and when he couldn't take it any longer, he'd race over and run up the trunk until he couldn't hold himself on anymore (usually about 2 or 3 feet up), then fall back down to the lawn. The squirrels knew he couldn't climb the tree and would sit there on the trunk just short of the upper limit of his range, not even budging when he got within a foot of them, chattering the whole time.

We were always worried he'd dislocate his tail, he'd get so ticked off.

I loved that cat.