Once upon a time, a good Samaritan in our little hometown was shopping on a rainy, dreary day. While hurrying across the parking lot she saw a dog worrying at something.
That something turned out to be a small black and white kitten, soaked to the skin beneath her fur.
The kitten was ripped open at the abdomen and the dog had practically chewed her leg off.
And yet–the kitten was struggling to get back up and stand her ground against her foe. Undeniably, she had spirit, this one.
The good Samaritan took the kitten to the local vet. Her back left leg was too far gone to save and had to be amputated. He tucked her guts back in and sewed up that abdomen. Truthfully, he didn’t really expect the small and badly injured kitten to survive.
The kitten was fostered by another good Samaritan, and not only did she survive, she began to thrive.
She needed a good permanent home, and so the kind woman started looking for one. She thought she knew the perfect place.
A local newspaper reporter–call her Ladywriter–had often mentioned her pets and prediliction for taking in strays. She was a sucker for an animal in need.
And so the little three-legged cat with a Hitler mustache found a new home.
Because of her unique walking style and the sound it made when her back end bumped against the floor, she earned the name “Thumper.” Thumper was a strange little cat who at times would suddenly start shaking like a leaf, her green eyes getting huge. Her new parents thought it might be some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder.
She mostly kept to herself rather than interacting with the other felines in the household. When you picked her up, she would growl deep in her throat and trying to nip you. But there was something about her . . .
After she was “fixed,” Thumper became more mellow. She would rub herself happily against your feet and even rappel up the side of the bed to join her adopted parents. She still wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. But she didn’t try to bite you anymore, either. And sometimes she would even climb up for a purr and a cuddle.
When the chaRActers started hanging out in Mr. and Mrs. Ladywriter’s den, they became acquainted with the family’s canines and felines.
Guy found himself amused at how happily the disabled cat would rub against his big black boots and the way she managed to move pretty quickly in spite of her handicap, almost scuttling like a crab. He taughed at the story of how Thumper had managed to tip over a small wastebasket with her chin in order to get at the forbidden dental floss inside it without actually turning over the container. She was no dummy, either.
Sir Guy found himself taking a fancy to Thumper–a dark cat who had struggled to survive against the odds, scarred by life’s experiences. A cat with a bite who nonetheless needed affection and love just as we all do. The cat had spirit. The cat had moxie. Her, he liked..
And that’s how Thumper the Three-Legged Tuxedo Cat with the Hitler Mustache became the Dark Knight’s favorite cat.
PS She really isn’t keen on posing for photos. She can be as stubborn as a certain tall and beautiful henchman.