The Tiger and The Cat
Long, long ago, before zoos existed to glamour in their acquisitions of prized wildlife, there lived a certain wild tiger in the countryside and his distant cousin the domestic cat in a burgeoning urban locus of commerce. In those olden days as even now, the domestic cousin cat was adapted quite well to his surroundings, feasting almost at will upon the copious urban vermin forever infesting the crowded matrix of municipal hovels and securing for itself possession of an inalienable niche as lovable pet and mouse-catcher. The country tiger, on the other hand, back then was not the huge, stately, and ferocious beast now so feared and lauded in the wild, but a rather scrawny, scrappy, gangly-looking creature that was so obviously down on his luck.
One day in the summer of a now long-forgotten year, when the domestic cat cousin just happened to venture out to the country on a weekend sun-n-fun picnicking jaunt, he ran into his decrepit cousin, the tiger. panting hurriedly and with head to the ground, running quite madly up and down a well-worn country path. “My dear …cousin,” implored the cat just barely recognizing the disheveled tiger as kin, “I sincerely hope you take no offense that I ask, but what unfortunate fate has befallen you that you appear so crazed. sickly and lost here in your own native habitat?”
With glassy and slowly comprehending eyes, the tiger glanced up and through cracked lips uttered, “Is that you cousin? O glory be! My rich little cousin from the city has come to visit me!”
“Well, I’m here for a picnic,” responded the city tabby, “But now that I’ve run into you, why don’t you join me, cousin, and we’ll make our re-acquaintance and feast delightfully .”
The scrawny tiger which hadn’t had a decent meal since beyond a memory of moons, of course, purred at this opportunity and used the occasion to pour his heart of ache and disillusion out to his generous benefactor-kin. “You, my dear city cousin have obviously done so well for yourself!” admired the tiger. “ Your shiny coat, plump stomach, and glistening teeth all so attest. But me—I am a wreck! O dear cousin, I’d do anything to learn the secrets of your success!”
The cat listening compassionately to the tiger’s lament, responded without hesitation: “I’ll tell you what, coz, I’d be more than happy to assist you! And to that end, I’ll return every weekend until it’s clear you’re once again the master of this wild locale.”
And thus did a great transmission of hunting knowledge and sleight of paw wisdom begin. The tiger hadn’t an idea about how to crouch low while approaching game, so the cat first taught him that. And circling while on the prowl was also a foreign concept to old tigger, so cousin tabby, upon a subsequent weekend, also conferred to him that know-how. The weeks passed and one skill after another did the most generous cat impart. For his part, the tiger learned quickly and learned well, as was reflected in the his stature growing haughtier, and his coat getting glossy again, and his ribs disappearing below a comfortable layer of new fat.
Finally the day arrived when the tiger felt and looked the part of pure ferocity again. And, upon the very next weekend, as the cat approached for the tiger’s graduation from months of tutorials, the tiger bellowed, “My most precious cousin cat, I’m feeling tremendous and, I dare say, that I now look as well as thee! But before we celebrate, surely there is something, perhaps just one thing more that you can teach me?”
With a huge smile on his face the little tabby beamed back, “You have learned everything I know—perhaps even better than me. So cherished cuz, let’s rejoice in our equality!”
But with that assurance, the tiger turned face and growled, “Well, then little feline friend, since I can’t have you bragging to the world that you made Great-Me what I now am, goodbye forever to you!” And with that, the huge looming tiger lunged through the air with fangs glistening death.
But just before his pounce would have meant the end of poor kitty, the city cat jumped BACK and the tiger ended up biting only dust. “What the hell was that?? “ cried the tiger in embarrassed disgust, “I thought you had taught me everything, all of your tricks.”
“Well,” yelled back the quickly homebound city cat, “Sometimes, the little things, I just forget!”
And that is why even to this day, though the giant tiger-types (all-consuming corporate webites/webmasters and powers-that-be) seem to rule the internet with great aplomb, nonetheless, do we pussycat-sized Xangan blogging types keep them dizzy with our never-ending back-stepping prolificity (if not actually envying our eProps for their resemblance to gold dubloons!).
Power to the Peeps!
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