This is a tale of a tail that involves a cat and a mischievious little brother. It happened in the 70’s when each day brought some new experience to ponder. The bitterly cold winter was fading into memory and the buzz of farmyard bugs was in the air. We were bored. As we sat on an old set of wagon wheels, the scuzzy barn cat jumped up and demanded attention. My brother absently began to pet him following the length of the cat’s back right up to the tip of his tale. Scuz began to purr his appreciation and came in close, putting his scent on us. He leaned into the next stroke, his little motor purring hard. As my brother passed over the tip of the tail we heard a sickening ‘snap’ and there, in my brother’s hand was the cat’s tail! A look of horror spread over his face and he exclaimed “oh, no!” The cat continued to purr and looked questioningly toward my brother as if to say, “why did you stop?” He didn’t seem to notice that his tail was now in my brother’s hand! It had been a cold winter, and the tail no longer had any life in it. In the meantime, our boredom turned to panic as we tried to think of a way to explain to our parents why the cat had no tail!
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