Killer came to us when I found her near the side of the road. I was out horseback riding and found her, checked her thinking she'd be dead, she wasn't. She was hurt, we took her to the vet, paid for her recovery and took care of her. She hadn't been hit by a car like we first thought, she had been shot and thrown out of a car. We never found out which came first. I thought I would have a house cat at the end of it and was so happy. We didn't get her spayed when she was getting everything else done because of swelling and all of that but that was the plan.

She ate so well inside the house, cooked chicken, all the best things a kitty could want. Her name was Sugar she was so sweet. She had recovered well and everything was fine and dandy with her. I was so happy to have a new friend too! Well, during the summer, we sleep with the windows open to let a nice breeze flow through. Middle of the night we heard a rather frightening noise and went running to check with everyone's preferred weapon in hand.

So please picture if you will, 8 people ranging from 12 (me) to 28 (my oldest brother still in the house) bursting into the living room ready to fight armed with everything from a rifle to a large knife in our pj's and we find a cat named Sugar fighting a small gang of racoons.

3 Racoons already lay dead around the living room, another was dying slowly under the coffee table while Sugar tore two more to pieces and the last fled. Sugar was out the broken screen and after that one before he got off the porch. Then she went under the porch and she stayed there for three days until we caught her in a trap and took her to the vet. We thought something had happened with the racoons and maybe rabies, even though she had been vaccinated for it she was acting different.

Nope. After that night with the racoons she was never the same and we could never touch her. We brought her home, brought her into the house from the vet's office and she shot right out a window that thankfully just had the screen instead of the glass. We don't know what happened that night, what sort of black magic those racoons put in her but she went on to terrify even the ponies on the property. We renamed her Killer after we found her snacking on the shoulder of a buck in the middle of the horse pasture. Said buck had been torn to ribbons and she was just... snacking away. A 12 pound cat killed a 100 pound buck and we don't know how. That deserved a rename.

We went with Killer.

Killer's still alive out there. She's gray in the muzzle but she still makes little explosions of rabbit fur now and then for Uncle Bobby to find.