Between 3:30 & 4:00 AM in the morning there was a pounding on the door of the trailer I slept in informing everyone: "THE TIGERS ARE OUT!" While getting dressed the thought occurred to me, "Just what am I going to do? I don't know nuthin' bout catchin' no tigers." Not coming up with any answers to the question I naturally charged ahead in the quest for tigers. The nephew of the circus owner, immediately shut himself inside upon hearing the the news. He emerged three hours later. All 3 cats had been spotted by one of the circus performers. One cat had been caught and leashed by the tiger trainer, the cat trainer, as it made it to the edge of the circus grounds. On the other side of the trees and under brush at the park's edge was Main St. It was headed for downtown.
So I was sent to help roll over an empty cage to find that the other 2 tigers were hanging around at that location. While approaching the area, the ringmaster's wife, told me to grab a folding chair for protection. The other villagers had pitchforks, rakes and oh yes, flashlights to see where they were going. One more cat had been caged by this time leaving us to surround the remaining beast. With my weapon of no distinction I was giving my best Clyde Beatty imitation. The rest of the crew surrounded the last tiger. At this time I was prepared to use deadly force with my trusty folding chair or sit down with the feline and talk it over. The tiger bolted and ran to the right by the first of May who let out a resounding whimper. Someone else grabbed meat from the cookhouse and led it into a cage.
The moral of the story being, "Keep clean underwear at all times."
