The Amazing Brave Cat Aggie

Lights, Camera, Action!

Cat Aggie

(the following is a chapter from Aggie's Book)

I heard a knock on my front door and my heart raced a little. They were here! A film crew from Vancouver, Canada, had traveled to the rural area of Laceyville, Pennsylvania just to film a segment about my cat.

My calico cat, Aggie, had bravely attacked an intruder, causing him to flee in terror. Aggie had already made the headlines in various newspapers and had been written about in several books. Now she was going to make TV history as a feline heroine. The fact that Aggie is totally, completely blind made her brave deed all the more astounding!

The star they had come to film was dozing in her comfortable wicker basket until the strange commotion of voices and thuds of equipment woke her. Any new goings-on that she could investigate always appealed to her, Aggie was never one to miss an opportunity to be the center of attention.

The film crew gathered quietly around Aggie's basket, looking as if they were paying homage to a great monarch. They were concerned that their presence might upset or frighten her, but they need not have worried. "Oh, Aggie" one of the crew whispered deferentially, "you are such a brave little kitty! How courageous of you to attack a robber and save your family! And you are such a pretty kitty, too." The others murmured in agreement.

Aggie's response to this heart-felt reverence was to yawn widely—though, of course, she totally agreed with them. They all bent down, drawing closer so they could see her better. To Aggie, they were appropriately bowing in tribute while in the presence of Her-Regal-Royal-Self. Everything was as it should be.

Aggie reached out one dainty white paw. Her diminutive wave seemed to bestow her permission for them to begin petting her royal personage. She purred loudly as they did so. I idly wondered if Aggie expected me to curtsy before Her-Regal-Royal-Self prior to her film debut. But no, she was ready for another nap. (Being regal must be somewhat tiring,)

Aggie withdrew her paw and her purr, as well as her interest in the newcomers. Then she proceeded to drift contentedly back to sleep. Her admirers would just have to wait. Right now she had dreams to dream.

An hour later the crew had the camera and lighting equipment set up. The interview regarding the night of the event began. I went first, then my husband was interviewed. I listened as he related the incident on that fateful night. "Yes, we were startled awake," he said, "and it was later, when we saw the blood on Aggie's paws, that we realized she had attacked the intruder and driven him away! The policeman agreed and was astounded by her bravery," My husband then added, "Aggie's fame is growing all the time. Why she even has her own website up now. The city of Laceyville put one up for her. And she gets dozens of e-mails each week at!"

It was all true. Aggie was indeed a famous kitty and she had been invited to many places, though I always firmly refused as she did not take kindly to car trips. But if her fans wanted to come right to her home, as this film crew had done, then that was just fine as far as she was concerned.

As the day went on, Aggie was right in the middle of it all. The crew had electrical cables and lighting stands everywhere, and most of the living-room furniture had been moved. One of the film crew asked earnestly, "How can a blind cat possibly maneuver around this stuff? Doesn't all this chaos distress her and confuse her?" Just as I was about to explain that, no, Aggie is not bothered by things being moved around, and in fact enjoys chaos, she came gleefully charging through the room, making turns and avoiding collision with the different pieces of equipment. The crew stood there, mouths open in amazement at what they had just witnessed: a blind cat running full-speed through an obstacle course.

Finally, the interviews were complete and the crew turned their attention to the star of the segment: Aggie. I mentioned that Aggie had several games she enjoyed. One was to rug-wrestle. At their puzzled expression, I explained: "Aggie happily wrestles with a rug. It is in my kitchen." The producer asked if I would be able to entice Aggie to rug-wrestle so they could observe this activity before they tried to film it.

"Sure I can," I answered confidently. After all, Aggie was always ready to play. "Here, Aggie." I placed a favorite toy of hers, a large gray mouse with a bell inside it, under the small woven rug. I then moved the rug about slightly so Aggie could hear the mouse jingle.

Sure enough, Aggie came dashing into the kitchen, paused just inches from the rug, wiggled her backside in the air and then pounced upon the rug. She wrestled it, she clawed it and she playfully bit it. Yes, Aggie was indeed rug-wrestling! She paused every few moments to be sure her audience was fully appreciating her awesome skills, then she repeated her performance. Gripping with her front claws, she happily clawed with her back claws. Each time she did it the toy would jiggle and the crew would chuckle.

"Okay, that's great!" the producer enthused. "Now let's get some film on that." The camera operator hoisted the heavy camera up to his shoulder. Aggie continued playing. The camera man turned on the camera light and adjusted the focus. Aggie pounced again and played with the rug. The camera man started to film. Aggie suddenly stopped playing. She sat up, cocked her head to one side and stayed motionless.

After a few minutes of this the camera man stopped filming. After all, they were on the last roll of film and he needed to be careful to get the shots they needed. "What happened to Aggie?" the puzzled producer asked me. "Gosh, I don't know." I was as surprised as they were.

Suddenly Aggie focused on the rug and began playing again. The camera man hoisted the camera up. Everyone was very quiet so as to not distract Aggie. But as soon as the filming started, Aggie stopped playing. I tried to encourage her by using her pet name, Aggie-Waggie. Nothing worked. However, the moment the camera man put the camera down, Aggie seemed energized and attacked the rug. It was strange.

Finally they asked if we could get her to climb down her massive cat-tree-jungle-gym. It was on this very cat-tree that she had attacked the robber. "Sure," I told them, confidently. "She will absolutely climb down the tree if we place her on it."

Well, you know what happened? The same thing that happened before. Camera on - Aggie off. She seemed to know the moment the camera went on. Finally I realized that I had forgotten one important thing that would be sure to mobilize Aggie—no matter if the camera was on or not.

Aggie was sitting in the cat-tree when I took the camera man to the side and said, "Start filming right away and you will get your shot of her climbing down the tree. I guarantee it!" I could tell he didn't believe me, but I was certain they would get this piece filmed. After all, I had a magic word to use.

He started the film rolling one last time. I then spoke the magic word softly; "Dinner." Suddenly Aggie bolted into animation! I smiled as I watched her navigate the complex levels of the seven-foot-high jungle-gym-cat-tree at the speed of light! Down she came, the camera finally capturing her action.

Success! Everyone cheered! They got their footage and Aggie got her reward—food! When the film crew was ready to leave, they came over, one by one, and bowed down to give Aggie a goodbye pat on the head. "By the way," the producer said just before she closed the front door, "Someone should make a full-length movie about her. The thing is, it would be impossible to find another cat like Aggie to play the part."

Aggie waved her fluffy tail in complete agreement, before curling up on the sofa for a nap.  It had been an interesting day for her, to be sure. A few minutes later I noticed her whiskers twitching. She was dreaming. Images of rug-wrestling were dancing across her mind.

Or perhaps, as she lay dreaming, she was once again defending her home from a very dangerous menace—and once again saving the family she so dearly loved.

Copyright 2004 Lynn Seely. All rights reserved. Site Map

Site Design by Carnright Design. All rights reserved.
Hosted by