Reminds me of the cat my grandfather kept in his office/workshop. They had a guard dog because the fence company was located in a crappy part of cleveland and people would try to steal material from the warehouse all the time. The dog (named Mac) would listen to commands from 3 people, my grandfather, my uncle, and my uncles friend, who picked him up from the pound. Everyone else he considered lower than him in the pack and would bite if they touched him. Hell, he'd go after you even if you didnt try to touch him, unless my grandfather was with you and told Mac "No!". I learned how to scale a barbed wire fence fast due to this dog. Mac was a damn good, damn tough guard dog. Mac was the kind of dog that would run after traffic, but instead of just barking at it, he would try and attack it. When he was 11 years old or so he bit a pick-up trucks tire and lost a canine tooth... but gave the truck a flat. At one point, Mac was lying down just inside the door to the shop. It was 6PM or so, and while the shop was usually closed by then, my uncle and his crew were just finishing up, and BSing. Some crackhead decides he wants to apply a 5 finger discount. Walks into the shop, sees the dog, jumps a little. Mac had just gotten fed, and he was always out for an hour soon after eating. He saw the dog hadnt moved, so he grabs a piece of 3" pipe, about 3 and a half feet long, and hits Mac in the head, hard, trying to make sure the dog doesnt move, period. What he didnt see was my uncle had been watching him ever since he opened the door, but my uncle wanted to see how it was going to play out. Mac jumped up, didnt try and get his bearings, didnt need to shake it off, didnt even take the time to bark or growl, oh no, Mac grabbed him by the balls and bit down, hard. The crackhead tried to raise the pipe for another swing, and Mac decided to shake his head around a little. It took my uncle a good two minutes to convince Mac to let go of that guy.
You might be asking: What does the above have to do with the cat that lived in my grandfathers fence company? Mac was the cat's b!tch. Bigtime. The cat would lay down on Mac when Mac decided to lay down, and it didnt matter what you said to Mac, threw his food dish just out of reach, etc, he wouldnt move till the cat got off. Because if he did move, the cat didnt get off, she would just stay there and hang on to him by he claws. My grandfather had a picture of Mac sleeping. The cat is standing on Mac's head and shoulders, with her head out in front of Mac and flipped over, ie how she would angle it to look between her back legs while standing. The funny thing about the picture is her front paw is lifting Mac's eyelid up so you can see his eye, and he is looking off to the camera pleading for help. If I had that pic I'd scan it, its hilarious. Mac had, on several occasions, killed kittens that walked through his territory. Even some full sized cats that couldnt run to the fences fast enough. When the shop-cat (I cant seen to remember her name right now) had kittens, Mac was used as their babysitter. They would attack his tail, bite his nose and ears, and he'd take it, because he knew who those kittens belonged to. When I was a kid and visiting my grandfather's shop, there were only two scenarios in which I was safe from Mac attempting to attack me. One was to have my grandfather or uncle along. Mac would sometimes try even if my uncle was around, but Mac was ~100lbs, and my uncle was ~325, and had a convincing arguement, aka his right fist, that got Mac to leave the area. The second method was to be carrying the cat, and/or have the cat along with me.