Manly man

We have an irritating cat in the neighborhood that especially bothers us because it poops in our yard and Grady evidently thinks this is some sort of rare delicacy (maybe it's his way of telling us we don't feed him enough, but regardless, it's not one of his more charming habits). We're not cat fans to begin with (exceptions include The Big Finn's cat, King, and my brother's dearly departed cat, Cat), but this is pushing us over the edge.

So the other day we thought we had an opportunity to teach the cat a lesson. Gretchen evidently caught it approaching our back door during the afternoon, so she sent Grady out after it. She knew Grady wouldn't actually hurt the cat (years of chasing squirrels have made that abundantly clear), but we still expected he might at least give it a good scare. He charged the cat--and Grady is a good 30 kilos (around 60 pounds)--but rather than running away, the cat just stood its ground, hissed and raised one paw, claws extended, and Grady simply stopped in his tracks. He just turned around and came back in the house and left the cat alone. It's a good thing for us that he has such a loud, booming bark because the reality is he's about the biggest wuss of a dog you're likely to meet (but we love him just the same).