I have a Kitler. This is an über-Kitler. My Kitler is a minor Kitler. He is very cute but also very evil (if you are a small mammal or bird). He also eats bugs but like who is counting on that score? He sleeps on a load of towels (princess and the pea fashion) most of the time and then saunters out to kill something for the sheer hell of it. I rather admire him for that. He is freerer than I am in a way.
There are a lot of cats up our road but Timmy is King of the Hill. He defends his gaff with alacrity and I have seen him do things… Things I dare not relate in terms of utterly devastating other cats. I once split him in a fight from another tom and the millisecond my back was tuned Timmy flew onto the retreating cat’s back and was tearing fur like a good ‘un. I shouldn’t be proud but I am not least because he’s my cat and the noise was utterly outrageous which was kinda cool. It sounded like the Red Army was having a the Waffen SS BBQ. It was also a manoeuvre I had spent months perfecting in MiG Alley so fair play to Timmy for getting it from the first - there were claws everywhere and that leap - Jeezus Chriscringle - that was like 8 metres with all cutting surfaces bared so respect is due - that was Jackie Chan feline fine. He is a wonderful cat. He loves us but by God if you cross him you’d better know a bloody good plastic surgeon.
Timmy is the bestest form of Kitler. He is armed and approximately on my side. Well, as much as a cat can ever be on anyone’s side.