Snowball: The Darndest Cat in the Wild West

Let me make this clear: This is not a love story. Because those are normally good.  No, this is a story about someone who defied the stereotypes.
Snowball was an average kitten with the one exception being her volcanic black fur, also she could fire a pistol.  All she’d ever wanted to do with her life was to be an owner of a saloon.  But when she filed for a loan she was told that she hadn’t filled out the form correctly, probably because she was a cat and didn’t speak English.
The only option for Snowball was to turn to a life of crime, which she did. In fact she enjoyed it so much she never thought about owning saloons anymore.  All she cared about was cash and livin’ it up in the wild west.
I was just a little boy when I first heard of Snowball, but it wasn’t until I was a bit older that our worlds collided.
It was a sunny day in Clearwater, sunny that is except for all the clouds.  We townsfolk were just minding our own business when Little Timmy pointed out a figure in the distance.
I grabbed my binoculars and saw what looked to be a cat riding a horse.  As it got closer I realized it was in fact a cat riding a horse. There were only two people it could be, and considering only one of them was a cat, I knew who it was… Snowball.
When Snowball arrived in town she went straight to the cat house.  She left almost immediately looking VERY confused.
Someone ran up and got the sheriff, Tim Digglebaker, who wasn’t the brightest crayon in the drawer. Tim went up to pet Snowball. Before I could stop him, he was pumped full of lead.
“Meow! Meow! Meow!” Snowball purred from the top of Tim’s bleeding body.
“I don’ know what she be sayin’, but I sure as hell be listenin’!” Craig, our town drunk, said.
A ripple of murmurs rolled through the crowd that had gathered.  In sync the entire townsfolk bowed down to Snowball.
And that is how Snowball was elected mayor of Clearwater.


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