Pets in da Hood

As I have stated before, our family has 2 pets; Nemo, the big blonde lab and Rascal, the tiny fuzzy tom cat. The 2 get along famously, playing and napping together all day, the picture of domestic bliss. Unfortunately we live in ‘da hood’, and so our bucolic life is often disrupted by squealing tires, shouts of anger and occasionally gunfire. The Lord is gracious, so our family is safe; it’s the surrounding area that is fraught with dangers. Even our pets have acclimatized to the tense atmosphere and react accordingly: when a fight breaks out, or someone starts shooting, big Nemo will whine and claw desperately at the door, trying to get inside and underneath something. There he will stay, trembling, until the danger has passed. Then he will cautiously emerge and slip back out on the porch, nervously scanning the horizon for any new sign of danger.
On the other hand, when Rascal hears of a scrap in the neighborhood, he will demand to be let out. Then he will saunter to the fence, jump up on the rail and start throwing gang signs! More than once I have had to drag him back inside while he spits, curses and shouts taunts over my shoulder about their mothers – yikes! He was trying to tie a bandana on his head, but with no thumbs .. well, it was difficult. The neighbors have complained of spray painted paw prints on fences and garage doors, but just because the empty paint cans are in our dumpster doesn’t mean it is our cat that’s the culprit! When we adopted him, they failed to mention his felonious past. I guess we should have picked up on it when they were taking the home detention bracelet off prior to handing him over to our ‘custody’. Any hoo, innocent until proven guilty, so Rascal is free on his own recognizance and the paint is locked in the garage, and if anyone tries to assault Nemo, he just says
‘Say hello to my little friend!’