A "good" cat story

Just this afternoon, Greg and I were talking of how we are to assist keep a conversation going this evening between 2 people that don't know each other. Concluding that we need to find things these 2 have in common would be very helpful and the thought came that a cat story usually is a great ice breaker and I thought I'd share my few with you. (they are true, morbid, and a bit gory...I wish I had loving kind ones, but unfortunately those times with cats usually get forgotten, and these awful ones get remembered). The first is about our childhood cat MewMew (this would be Amy's story). She was a kitten when we got her, and Amy played with her constantly. Dressing her up in doll clothes, feeding her with a bottle, the works. She was a favorite kitten and coincidentally she met her fate just as we were about to go on our first camping trip with our new travel trailer. We were all so excited to get going, as we hadn't been camping in years, and were all loaded up ready to go. As my Dad started the car, we heard a yowl from under the hood, and yes, MewMew had gotten caught in the fan belt and was all mangled up. Now what to do....we're ready to go camping, and not to the vet at such a time. So, she seemed fairly 'stable' but unable to walk. We put her in our dog house (the safest place we could think of) with food and water and blankets and regretfully left on our trip. It was not an enjoyable trip. All of us kids tried to have fun, but all I remember of the trip was laying awake in my sleeping bag for hours praying that MewMew would be alright. Well, when we got home she was gone. We looked all over for her, thinking a coyote probably got her, but finally found her curled up behind the deep freeze staying warm. We're not sure how she dragged herself across the yard, but somehow she did. What a trooper. I do believe we had to put her down then, because of her leg injuries were too much. And that was the end of MewMew. The next cat story is mine. I was about 6 and on the farm my Dad had given us kids instructions to knock down any barn swallow nests we saw, to keep the birds from building nests under the eaves of the house/shop/barn. So, one day I diligently was following instructions and got a long broom, knocked down the nest and it was full of baby birds. There they lay on the ground wriggling about and I had no idea what to do. This was not anticipated. As I stood there wondering what to do, our cat came along and gobbled them all up. Well, problem solved. But, just then, Mom called us in to dinner. I went in as I was told, but didn't have the heart to tell anyone that I was a baby bird murderer, nor explain why my appetite had suddenly left. (It was actually years before I had the nerve to tell anyone what I had done.) The last story belonged to my cousin Susan. She loved to tell this story to embarass her dad and humiliate her mom in front of company, especially at the dinner table. The story goes that one cold snowy night, their family was late for the Christmas program and her dad went careening out of the driveway only to drive over their beloved cat. In his haste, he didn't stop and when the program was over and they came back home, there was their cat, flattened and frozen solidly to the driveway...a real challenge to deal with now. I actually do recall many good memories of having cats, since we always did (Priscilla was our favorite we had her for many years), but somehow life for cats on the farm is quite risky and these stories tell of it. So, that's the end of this lengthy, uplifting saga from my childhood. I don't think I'll share those stories at dinner tonight....