We used to have a 19 pound killer Siamese cat named Momar.

Though he loved our kids, Momar completely ruled the roost among the animal kingdom. From his royal perch atop his cat bed, he lorded over both our dogs and any other animal that came near. Given the size of the chip on his shoulder, I had named him after Muammar Khadafi, the Libyan (terrorist) leader. Many an evening I'd be driving home and have to slam on the breaks to avoid Momar as he bounded after a squirrel across the African Savannah otherwise known as Oak Street.

The Catfight to End All Catfights

As our family grew, we moved into a bigger home with room for kids and pets. On moving day, I noticed a very large orange tabby cat at the new neighbor's house across the street. It sauntered over and checked me out, casing the joint. I wondered if Momar had finally met his match.

The next morning, I noticed Momar was walking with a bit of a limp. I was groggy from a night spent on a mattress tossed on the floor, so I didn't think much about it.

Later, while vacuuming the stairs, I found a detached cat claw in the carpet. I called Momar over and checked his paws. All claws were accounted for. Then I noticed a puncture wound in his neck behind his collar. The detached claw matched it perfectly.

At last, I thought, Momar had found a bigger bully than he was. Nonetheless, he purred contentedly as I gave him a consolation scratch behind the ears.

When I finished vacuuming, I stepped outside the front door with some boxes for the trash. I was shocked to find that it appeared that someone had shaved their golden retreiver all over our front yard. I bent down and picked up a tuft of the fur, and suddenly realized it was from the orange tabby. I looked around. There were divots of grass pulled up all over the lawn.

Whatever injuries Momar had sustained, it appeared that the orange tabby had suffered much worse. Given the amount of orange fur scattered everywhere, it seemed that Momar was the clear winner.

Momar followed me outside and rubbed against my pantleg. He was obviously gloating.

The orange tabby kept his distance from that moment on, and he looked considerably smaller without all that fur.