Had a friend years ago, had an old gray tiger striped cat named Bugsy.
Cat always sat under the guy’s rocking chair in his living room.
When you’d come over to visit (everybody just knocked and came on in) the cat would come out in a crouch, snarling. Guy would say ‘Bugsy, it’s OK’, cat would go back under the chair. But he’d keep an eye on you the whole time you were in ‘his’ house.
Cat attacked the garbage man one day, bailed off the porch onto the guy’s back, raking him with back claws. Owner had to take his cans to the curb after that.
Attacked a German Shepherd that came into the yard, that dog’s owner had to take him to a vet to get stitched up.
Would bring offerings to the front steps, various dead critters. Once brought a mother raccoon and a litter of kits.
Now, that was a man’s cat!
RIP, Bugsy, and your owner.
