Courtesy of my cousin Chris (Christine)

My cousin and her then husband (who for reasons shall remain nameless) used to live on an acreage north of Drayton Valley, Alberta. It was more like a small farm, with a shop, greenhouse, barn, a few horses, dogs and cats.

This happened one summer afternoon. At the time one of the vehicles they owned was a blue crewcab four wheel drive Dodge pickup. Her husband was driving home from some place and stopped in Rocky Rapids at the general store. Rocky Rapids is slightly north of Drayton Valley but south of where they lived. He got gas then headed off for home which was about fifteen minutes away. He pulled into the yard where Chris was outside watering her plants. He turned off the truck and after he got out they heard a noise. They traced it to the truck. With a bit of a search they discovered a kitten. It had likely hitched a ride from Rocky Rapids and it hung on at highway speed. Chris told him he should take it back to Rocky Rapids. He refused. His reasoning was that there was no way he was going to find where it belonged. Also, being in the country, there is no shortage of cats. So the cat stayed. For some reason the only person it liked was her husband and he really never liked cats. Except this one.

The cat was named Wyatt Earp.

Why?

Because it survived Dodge.