One day he was working in the yard when he felt the call of nature. Since they were miles from any neighbors he stepped behind a rose arbor to drain the morning's coffee. Unknown to him the cat was lurking in the undergrowth. The cat saw his chance at last and leapt. . .
Gramps was never the same . . . kind of a sprinkler effect.
My father's grandfather was a city marshall at a small town in Kansas...dad told of visiting him, when the cat jumped onto the kitchen counter and started eating his breakfast bacon. He took his revolver and shot the cat dead, right there.
My aunt always said that he shot the cat in the yard, after chasing him out, but I don't believe it, because I tried to shoot a feral cat one time. I'm pretty good, but it took me 5 or 6 shots with a .22 rifle. And I don't think he would have bothered getting up out of his chair.