Tails From Rainbow Bridge: Raiding The Kitty Kibble with Leo, Sandy and Abbie

At Rainbow Bridge, we have a never-ending supply of kibble.  Each morning we remove our share The pile goes down during the day, but by dawn, it is miraculously refilled.   Yesterday Leo told me that he had measured the kibble and sometime during the night it was disappearing.  We sat at my table stumped about who would steal our stash at night. It struck us both simultaneously like a lightning bolt:  Cats

They are always prowling around at night while right-thinking animals are tucked in their beds.  They act like we are friends, but we know they can’t be trusted. If we allowed them to take our kibble what would be next? Our goodies?  Our treats? I put together a canine crack crew to infiltrate the cat village and take back what was ours.

I had Leo, the intelligence; Abbie, a recent arrival at the Bridge, who knew the latest kitty tricks, was the infiltrator; Sandy our daredevil friend, the thief, although he would never steal anything belonging to another.  He would merely take back what was ours. And me? I was the tiny Yorkie driver.

We made our assault at noontime when the night loving kitties were most vulnerable.  I got behind the wheel of my red 2006 Subaru WRX. I pressed my paw on the gas, and we took off.  All was quiet at the kitty village upon our arrival. We each had a bucket.

We quietly went over to their kibble pile and filled our containers to the brim.  I popped the trunk, and we poured our bootie inside. Then we heard a loud pop.

I looked at Leo.  He was covered in dust.  I licked it then grimaced.  Kitty litter! I turned and saw cats standing on the wall.  They had kitty litter cannons pointed at us. 

“Get in the car,” I ordered.  We scrambled into the Subaru. I started it and hit the gas just as a 1968 Ford Mustang GTE filled with angry feral cats sped towards us from behind the wall.  

“They’re gaining on us!” Sandy yelled.  I looked in the mirror. One of the cats was leaning out the window with a gun.  His eyes were slits, obviously under the influence of nip. As he pulled the trigger, I swung the wheel to the right.  The litter blew past us. 

“Tree!” Leo yelled. It was right in front of us. I pumped the brake putting the car into a skid then spun the wheel hard to the right.  The tires caught and spun us past the tree. The kitties were still in pursuit, but now we were facing them. I floored it heading right for them. Abbie yelled at me to swerve, but a Yorkie never blinks.  Just before we hit head on the kitty swerved, and we passed them.

I pressed down on the accelerator trying to outdistance the cats, but they had turned around and were gaining on us again. I spun the wheel to the left and held on tight. 

“Foley, we are headed for the cliff!”  Leo yelled. I looked at him, smiled, and went faster. The cats were now right behind us. We flew off the edge. I didn’t brake, but the cats did.  I looked in the rearview mirror as their car skidded off the edge plunging towards the river. The Subaru barely reached the other side, which, because this was Rainbow Bridge, was right where we started.

We stopped and looked down.  The cats were in the river, wet but safe.  They shook their paws at us. We laughed, got in the Subaru, drove to my cottage and unloaded the car.  We sat down for a kibble feast. We chewed, but something was wrong. “It tastes like tuna,” Leo said. We spit it out.


“Is this kitty kibble?”Abbie asked. 

Then we saw three fat squirrels, with dog kibble on their breath, laughing at us.  “I think we made a terrible mistake,” Leo said.

We had to bring the kitty kibble back, apologize several times, and give them the Subaru to replace the car they crashed.  They told us it was all right, but they had a certain edge to their voice, and I was certain it was far from alright.

But I am sure they will forgive us.  They have to we need them for our war against the squirrels.