— Breaking911 (@Breaking911) January 14, 2020
WATCH: It turns out this cat named Max is a great warrior. See for yourself as he fights off coyotes in his own backyard. pic.twitter.com/weYGc5D9Lm
— WDBJ7 (@WDBJ7) January 13, 2020
I say Max, having proved his valor, should now retire with full honors. The Washington Post has a good write-up:
… What the coyotes didn’t know was that Max is a seasoned street life veteran. He survived alone in Long Beach before being adopted by his current family nearly four years ago, Maya Gurrin, his human, told The Washington Post. Max has probably seen and been involved in scuffles for which he has no words — or meows…
Gurrin and her husband, Eliot, saw some tails wagging through a glass door, and decided to go outside to investigate the noise.
“We thought it was a raccoon,” she said. “We went out and saw that he was surrounded by them. The coyotes hurried off when we went out there.”
Max walked back inside unfazed and unsullied.
“He wanted to go right back outside like a psycho,” Gurrin said…
Since his brush with death, Max has been inside, but the Gurrins know that they can’t keep him indoors forever, based on experience…[T]he Gurrins are working out a compromise that would ensure Max’s safety and give him the freedom to smell the outdoors in the form of a catio or cat patio, which is an enclosed outdoor structure for cats still tapped into their wild side.
Max is very intelligent, according to Eliot, who said Max can open doors with horizontal handles.
“He’s a weird mix of friendly, of independent and loud and sensitive,” he said. “He’s a very hard cat to define. He’s super smart.” …
We’ve always done our best to ensure that our cats are indoor-only companions, but it can be difficult to outsmart a street-hardened rescue. We inherited six-pound Maine-Coon-type Kishkan when her previous owners moved to a country with a six-month pet quarantine. She’d come to live with them (despite one partner’s mild ailurophobia) by the simple expedient of waiting at their door & strolling in whenever it was opened. When they finally broke down & accepted their fate, their vet discovered she’d already been spayed, but nobody responded to their flyers. She was at least six years old when she came to live with us, and she lived another eight years before succumbing to kidney disease… despite regularly taking advantage of the dogs’ potty breaks to dart out for a walkabout. And she regularly brought back mice, voles, and baby bunnies to leave on the back stoop, just to show that we were not the boss of her.