Even as he glimpsed this abrupt danger, and before he could know what it was, he leaped sideways and saved himself.

From his point of view, the assault was unprovoked.

He was staring at her with bristling hair, recognizing her for what she was, a cat, when she sprang again, her tail the size of a large man's arm, all claws and spitting fury and vindictiveness.
This was too much for a self-respecting Irish terrier.

His wrath was immediate with her second leap, and he sprang to the side to avoid her claws, and in from the side to meet her, his jaws clamping together on her spinal column with a jerk while she was still in mid-air.

The next moment she lay sprawling and struggling on the deck with a broken back.
But for Michael this was only the beginning.