I ducked.
That was all I could do. I stopped, dead in my tracks and flattened out on the ground. Eyes closed, paws on either side of my head and my belly on the ground, I stuck there as flat as a bug on a fly swatter.
It worked!
Rotten Willy came thundering over me. He managed to tag me with the tip of his nose, but at least I didn’t get smushed.
“Tag. You’re . . .”
He never got the “it” out. Suddenly there was this horrible CRASH! I glanced up just in time to see Rotten Willy slam into the board fence. He turned his head just in the nick of time. He smacked into the boards instead of the heavy, solid wood post. The fence shook. For an instant Willy kind of scrunched up—all of him squeezed together by the impact. Then he straightened out and shook himself.
Eyes crossed, he looked around.
“Did I get you?”
I nodded. He took off.
Only he didn’t take off very far. He wobbled about two steps, then tilted. Staggering sideways, he bumped against the fence. Stood there a moment to get his balance, then he tried again. This time he got about three steps.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. Fine.” He sat down and tried to smile. His head and shoulders kind of went round and round in a big, gentle circle. Inside his head, his eyes rolled round and round in the other direction.
I eased toward him. As hard as he hit, it was a wonder he didn’t knock himself out cold. As I got closer, he blinked a couple of times and took off again. I sighed and shook my head. Guess he’s all right, I thought. Either his head’s so thick, it didn’t hurt him all that much, or he’s so dumb he doesn’t even know he’s knocked out.
I gave him enough head start to make sure he was all right, then went after him. We raced round and round the yard until he tried to squeeze between the air conditioner and the house. That slowed him down enough that I nailed his rump with a claw.
He turned and started chasing me.
Playing tag with a Rottweiler is like a cricket playing tag with a steamroller. Sooner or later I was gonna get hurt.
I headed for the pecan tree. Willy was gaining on me. I flattened my ears and whiskers against my head and ran as hard as I could. I jumped.
A huge paw hit my tail. It struck with as much force as the boy people over at the ball diamond used to hit the little, round ball they played with.
Now usually a cat’s tail follows the cat. Sometimes it has a mind of its own, though—like if you’re really mad, it flips all by itself. If you’re really scared, it puffs up all by itself. But most times it just follows along and helps balance.
When Willy hit my tail . . . well, I was in midair, almost to the tree when all of a sudden my tail passed me. I caught sight of it out of my left eye. Then my hind end and the rest of me turned around and started chasing my tail. Claws out, I was ready to cling to the tree and climb out of Willy’s reach. Only there was no bark to cling to. I went sailing backward through the air. Paws flailed, claws grabbed, my tail spun—hoping for anything to get hold of. There was nothing.
I missed the tree!
The fence stopped me. My rear end slammed into it. Upside down, I slid to the ground. I landed on my cheek with my tail stuck up in the air.
Not cool!
Quickly I scrambled to get myself right side up. I fluffed my fur with a couple of quick jerks. Tried to look calm—like I had meant to land on my face with my butt in the air.
Yeah, right.
It didn’t work. Above me I could hear birds laughing. I glanced up. A Mockingbird and a Robin stood on two different branches in the pecan tree. They laughed so hard that the limbs bobbed up and down. A little squeaking sound came to my sharp ears. Tight eyes glanced toward the hole in the house beside the air conditioner. As soon as they saw me look in their direction, the three mice scrambled back through the crack to hide behind the brick. I could still hear their squeaking laugh. Above me, the birds squawked and chirped so hard I thought they were going to laugh their feathers off.
Rotten Willy wasn’t laughing. He rushed to me and sniffed. The suction from his gigantic nose lifted my fur.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”
His big, ugly face looked worried. I tried to smile.
“No, I’m fine. I’m cool.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I knew you were expecting me to jump for the tree . . . so . . . ah . . . I decided to go for the fence and trick you by landing upside down.”