Do you remember Cato Fong?
An employee of Inspector Jacques Clouseau and expert in martial arts, it was Cato’s job to ambush Clouseau unexpectedly to keep his razor-sharp defence skills finely honed.
The two, from the iconic film series The Pink Panther, have delighted audiences ever since the very first film in 1963. As a child I watched the ambush scenes with uncontrollable chortling mirth, surrounded by more children in stitches and a father who could not speak for laughing.
For some time now, we have been trying to find a parallel for the strange alliance which has formed in our house since the small black amber-eyed kitten arrived in September.
The dog and the cat play together. Macaulay is always gentle, but the cat never pulls his punches. The affable mustachioed terrier parries with all the agility of Neville Chamberlain, that unfortunate prime minister of England whose moustache Macaulay emulates. The cat is a wild-eyed kung-fu fighter, for whom the only rule of Fight Club is Don’t Mew About Fight Club.
Yesterday, the dog was on my work-day regime: an early morning trot on the end of an extended lead on the forest path outside out house; and a pitch black walk on a lead through the estate in the evening.
It is a sub standard service for he who is accustomed to having his leash undone and running like the wind through acres of squirrel-populated forest. By yesterday evening the dog was wired. His muscles longed to stretch, restricted by the strangest of prison wardens, The Dark.
But Macaulay’s playmate, Clive Bond, was up for action. We watched as Macaulay played, still respecting the size and delicacy of the cat but with a rougher edge than usual.
We were ready to step in; but the cat adored it. It was all-catdog action, and it would have polled top ratings on WWF. Finally the dog’s cannonball delivery caused a temporary retreat for regrouping by Clive. And, shaking ourselves out of our fascinated spectator’s role, we talked of other things and forgot, if only for a little while, the Clash of The Titans.
And there we were in the middle of a sentence when, from somewhere we still can’t quite determine, the cat flew across the room.
It was like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The flight must have begun in a spring, a kamikaze bound, but by the time we saw it the cat was just flying, man. Soaring through the air.
Destination? The dog’s back.
A second later our own personal bumbling Clouseau was ambushed by our black-panther-Cato who met his target, perfectly, achieving the art of surprise effortlessly. The cat was on the dog’s back, with paws wrapped manically around him in a clamp to make your eyes water.
I’m not sure I have ever seen the dog so surprised. He shook the cat off, but not without effort as the cat was using crampons. One-nil to Cato, and Cl0useau must return to his dog basket to consider his tactics for the net bout.
Cato hones his skills by choosing inanimate objects to practice on, much like a master-swordsman. A gorgeous feathered Venetian mask disappeared from Maddie’s bedroom, only to be found surrounded by black feathers, killed stone dead on manoevres.
So: we have our Clouseau and our Cato.
And I feel sure that this is only the beginning of a long, long story.
Kate Shrewsday 
Poor dog hasn’t got a chance:)
And yet, Roger, he comes back for more, tail wagging. He does the whole Woe Is Me I am Beset By A Cat thing, but he’s back picking a fight within two minutes…
lolololololol!
😀
Great story, Kate. Cats are ALWAYS planning their next move!
They are, Tom. Bond is obsessed with his.
Love their story. Mr Mac has to keep adapting as the small one learns new tricks
Keeps him on his paws, Sidey. Hope life is treating you well 🙂
Wonderful tale of faux warring (and wary) tails, Kate.
I hope that Clive doesn’t take to ambushing his human counterparts in that manner. OUCH!
He tried that early on, Nancy, and was given short shrift. I would be working at my desk and something with sharp claws would scale the length of my spine and end up in my head.
Unlike Macaulay, I do not enjoy sparring with a small cat.
Well, he certainly has earned his name. 🙂
I am beginning to wonder of calling him Clive Bond might have tempted fate, Rafael…
All I can say is, ‘Poor, poor doggie.’ 🙂
Aw, it’ll keep him young, Carrie.
Come to think of it: I might hire a Cato myself.
Your book has totally taken off, hasn’t it? Wonderful set of developments since its publication.
Thank you, but I’m not sure it’s taken off–haven’t seen my first royalty check yet, and I don’t think it takes many sales to bump the Amazon ranks–but for whatever reason, it has has enjoyed decent rankings on Amazon UK. And I didn’t even put a single “Bloody Hell!” in the book. 😉
It’s funny to think of the animals communicating with those Pink Panther accents……….
I never thought of the accent angle, Andra. Now I won’t be able to watch them without laughing…
It seems Macaulay can take care of himself, but I’m in mourning for the Venetian mask.
Yes, so is Maddie. Though she would forgive Bond anything.
Who could forget Cato! What an apt description, Clouseau and Cato. I’ve seen it so often with my own pets.
Next time, you’ll have a label for it, PT 🙂
Love the Pink Panther movies and just die laughing when Cato attacks, you are in for so much fun watching the two of them. Sure hope Master Mac speaks French.
I can just see him asking for a reum, Lou.
You have so much imagination.
Micheline
Thank you, Micheline 😀
My cat Belaud read your post. He was very interested. You know how cats are.
Best,
Micheline
Looking forward to the next installment. 🙂
There will be manymanymany instalments, I think, Kathy 🙂
I knew Clive Bond had a bit of Cato in him. Let’s hope that Macaulay is more adept at avoiding Bond than Inspector Clouseau was. It does sound like a match made in heaven, though. 🙂
Very strange. We’re still shaking our heads incredulously, Judy.
This is so funny! You’ve given a great picture, recalling Cato and Clouseau! No matter how many times I saw a Pink Panther movie, even remakes, I laugh without reserve! Poor Macaulay…he had such a peaceful life before his buddy came into the picture! 🙂
He did. But long spells in the house without a human are no longer so onerous, Debra 🙂
I can still laugh uncontrollably at the scenes with Clouseau and Cato, knowing what’s coming, still laughing my head off. Poor Macauley. Rather like having a rambunctious younger brother, isn’t it?
It is. It keeps him on his paws, as you might say, Penny 🙂
There’s much to learn from the patience of dogs.
This one, certainly. His patience is saintly, Barb.
Cats are way smarter than dogs. I have a Labrador at home. I had a cat for a few days, and she used to slap her way around him most of the time.
Ha! Of course, the dog might be a pacifist….
Hehe – poor Mac – no gentle slipping into old age for him.
Nope. Forever young, BB. Hello! Lovely to see you back again! Missed you loads…
Wish I had some advice – will ask tomorrow at tkd from those who might know more – I don’t know what the dog language is for – if you feel a set of claws on your back, roll over onto it…
Mark loved those movies. I just love the vision of those two.