So there I was, sitting on the front porch, eating my cat food - y'know, tuna, my favorite flavor - when this bratty kid came along and scooped me up. It was that neighbor's boy who's always throwing rocks at me and sicking his dog on me, and I scratched and struggled but I couldn't get away.
He lugged me straight for the well and dumped me in, and since my claws were made for climbing trees - not up the sides of wells - I began to think that the first of my nine lives was almost over. If you've never heard a scaredy cat - man, was I scared - screeching from inside a well, if you had heard me that day, I'll bet my ball of yarn that it would have knocked your socks off.
I had almost given up in despair when along came this other neighbor's kid, Tommy Trout, and dragged me out by the tail. To put it mildly, I do not like being dragged by my tail, so as soon as I was safe, I turned and scratched the fire out of his face. I was really one cool cat - in fact, I was a cold cat; that water was freezing - so I ran out into the sunshine and sat licking my fur and drying off. The adventures of the day had made me kinda pooped, so I lay in the sun and snoozed a bit.