While I was with Jenkins I thought cats were vermin, like rats, and I chased them every chance I got.

Mrs.Jenkins had a cat, a gaunt, long-legged, yellow creature, that ran whenever we looked at it.
Malta had been so kindly treated that she never ran from any one, except from strange dogs.

She knew they would be likely to hurt her.

If they came upon her suddenly, she faced them, and she was a pretty good fighter when she was put to it.

I once saw her having a brush with a big mastiff that lived a few blocks from us, and giving him good fright; which just served him right.
I was shut up in the parlor.