I’m beginning to look like a walking scratching post, or like I was lost in the jungle for months and had to fight my way through thorny bushes, or had a cat fight with a mountain lion, or rolled down a hill with stickes!
Yep…THAT cat, Bitty Boy2. He wants to attack me when I’m sitting, walking, laying down, standing, washing dishes, watering my flowers, feeding the large or small animals, doing laundry, putting shoes on (he loooooooves shoe strings!), snuggling with Mr. Growly, reading, and posting pics. Ah, but the worst, he waits for me to get out of the shower and, if I forget to shut the door, that cat bats at me through the shower curtain, then I have to peak around the curtain to make sure he’s not there waiting to plant himself on my wet leg, thus making me slip!
THAT cat does his best sneak attacks when I’m watching TV because I never know from where he’s going to fly at me from! He could be behind or next to the chair, under the table, on top the mantle,the ceiling fan, poor Biscuit’s back, or from Chad tossing him towards me because he had enough of the cat trying to nurse on his whiskers. Where could he be? I find myself looking for glowing eyes staring at me.
Not to mention, my house usually sounds like a non stop horror film with cats screeching, doing their hair raising low growl at each other mixed in with the sound of an angry dog snapping his teeth together, or a woman screaming (me) from pain (tiny claws climbing up my leg), or a man’s voice loudly demanding that this horrible creature get away from him as he runs from room to room with a tiny fur ball of terror leaping at him, paws slicing through the air with its sharp claws protruding out and corresponding bells on his collar warning that soon there will be pain! Or, Biscuit hiding under blankets (never works, that cat knows which lumps are alive and which ones aren’t).
The only thing in this house that is left alone is Chippie! Our 7lbs of snapping teeth refuses to tolerate cats, or other dogs, or humans, actually, anything that breathes or moves! I swear this cat has Golden King’s (Bitty Boy1) ‘I must attack’ instinct wrapped tightly around his!
The only words I hear coming out of my mouth since he got here is, “STOP IT! NO! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Good gosh Martha, I can’t wait for him to outgrow his wild teenage cat years! Now, to get out the door with out new battle scars.