What makes Funky so mean?
Funky came our way when she was about 4 months old. The first time I saw her she was sitting on my couch looking sweet and innocent. When I sat next to her, she came over and took a big bite of my ass. I knew then my fate was sealed and she would be my chief for life.
Quite the hunter, she has decimated the local mouse population and just loves baby birds, especially when they have ickle feathers. She doesn’t kill for the hell of it, she eats them too. She also does a fine business of bullying the other cats locally.
Not a lap cat, she very rarely gets close to her human subjects. She growls like a dog (probably louder actually) and is hard as nails. Her claws are along the lines of Wolverine in X-Men, fully extendable and retractable in a split second, as my hands and arms would testify.
Photo submitted by: Linda