My daughter's first ever solo living venture was a very nice rental condo about a year before she got married. The condo had a "mascot" Maine Coon Cat named Delilah which was beloved by most of the condo residents and therefore had free run of the place when let outdoors.
I first encountered Delilah in one of her favorite spots, lying under a huge Ford Galaxie luxury sedan c. 1970s. I had never seen a MCC before and her size was fascinating and alarming at the same time; at first I thought she was a mature wolverine. Quiet and docile but ever-observant as most cats are, I found her captivating.
A couple of weeks after meeting her, I was called on for Dad Duty to walk my daughter's 6 month old Yorkshire terrier while she attended an after-hours happy hour. Coming back down through the parking lot, "Hudson" and I encountered Delilah. lying in repose under the massive Galaxy. As any self-respecting terrier would, Hudson half-lunged under the rear bumper then abruptly drew himself up, snarling and barking all the while. Delilah barely moved, but "bullwhipped" her tail 3 or 4 times, which reminded me of the fans the slaves used to comfort the Pharohs in ancient Egypt, then let out a combination snarl/yowl/scream/moan that would have done any backup audio for Jurrasic Park proud.
Hudson reconsidered quickly, I backed away, and Delilah sort of looked over her shoulder in utter contempt and boredom. I immediately conjured up verses in my mind: "The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat".....If I'd had a cigar I would have smoked it!
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