At Dakota’s original home she used to go down to the pond and kill cats.
Then we got her, and we had to introduce her to my cat, Smokie. Smokie was already 10 years old and she was cranky! Had been since the day we got her. Dakota was the only one who could ever walk up to her, slurp her in the face and get nothing but a passive, lazy hiss out of her, instead of getting the crap scratched out of her.
Then we got Roxanne. Roxanne was Dakota’s cat. You don’t mess with Dakota’s cat! One weekend we house sat a friend’s big huge German Shepherd, Sherman. He was a country dog. Didn’t know about house cats. Long story short, Sherman went after Roxanne, and Dakota backed him down, like Cujo. I’d never seen her bare her teeth before, but she was on him. He stood 2 inches taller than Dakota! He was HUGE! He back pedaled like crazy.
I have a long ass story about that whole weekend.
Then we got Vanta. The first time I introduced tiny Vanta to Dakota, she carefully sniffed her, then gently picked up up in her mouth. My grandson was with me and kind of freaked out. I said, “Wait….”
Dakota then put the kitten down, and gave it a slurp and it was done.