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Cat Fight PDF Print E-mail
Written by Deborah Hamlin   
Sunday, 09 January 2011 07:33

Like most people this holiday season, I had to travel to spend the holidays with my family.   I compare that to swimming upstream with the rest of the salmon, just trying to get where I’m going and die.

Okay, so that’s a bit extreme.   I love my family, really.   It’s one of those things I just have to do, like paying taxes, standing in line at the DMV, or, well, visiting my family.

First, there’s my mother.   Enough said.   Then, there’s the sleeping arrangement.   Not a big deal…until now.   You see, my mom has a cat that seems to think it owns the couch, and it was not eager to share.   Now, I love animals, but this cat is something that should have belonged to Damien.   She is pure evil, that one.   She watched me as I put a sheet on the couch and made it my bed.   Her ears went back as though to say, “Yeah, go ahead and get comfortable.   Let’s see how long that lasts.”

That would have been about midnight.   The cat jumped onto the couch, walked all over me, then jumped off.  Then jumped back on, walked over me again, then off.   She woke me up repeatedly.   The next time she jumped on me, I reached over to pet her head, then gently pushed her off the couch.

She jumped back on, and I again, pushed her back to the floor.   This went on all night, resulting in about four hours sleep for me.   The next morning, as I relied on coffee to get me functioning, I spied the cat settling onto the couch for a nap.   Do I really need to say what happened next?   I waited until she settled down, then I casually walked by and poked her repeatedly until she woke up. Needless to say, not a happy cat.

Then, of course, that night, when I would be on the verge of sleep, she would start her thing.   First, she would meow loooong and slow, just to make sure I heard her, then she would jump on the couch and jump off.   I understood the game now, and I knew how to play.   The gloves were off now, Fluffy.
The next day, as I drank my 5th cup of coffee just to stay awake, I saw the cat settling in for a nap, and I did the inevitable.   I approached her, shook her awake, and walked away.   Hey, it’s a small victory, but it’s still a victory.

That night, as I was getting ready to reclaim the couch, I picked up Satan’s Spawn and was about to toss her outside when my mother saw me.
“You can’t put the cat out!   She’s not used to being outdoors.   She could get hurt out there.”
“Mom, this cat is too mean to get hurt.   She’ll be fine out there.”
“No, she won’t!   She’s been an indoor cat her whole life!  She wouldn’t know what to do out there.”
I put the cat down, and she immediately ran for the couch.

“Mom,” I protested.   “She bothers me all night.   I can’t sleep with her here.”
“Nonsense.”   My mother said as she turned to leave the living room.   “She’s just a cat.   You can’t control a cat?”
I looked over my shoulder at the innocent-looking feline as she groomed herself--on my pillow.  Tufts of hair spread across my pillow and she stopped to gaze up at me. I could swear she was grinning.

I turned the pillow over and got comfortable on the couch.   My couch, now.
About an hour later I awoke to the feel of the couch shaking slightly and the sound of scratching.   As I opened my eyes, I saw the cat sitting on the arm of the couch by my head, scratching furiously.   She looked down at me and yawned.   Then, began scratching her neck furiously again.   I reached over my head and roughly pushed her off the arm of the couch.

The next morning, as I sat up stiffly and tried to work the kink out of my neck, I saw the cat sitting on the arm of the couch at my feet, just watching me.   Her tail was twitching.   I mumbled at her and stood up, slipping my feet into my slippers, and finding one of them suspiciously damp.   I quickly looked at her and, giving one final twitch of her tail, she jumped off and trotted away.

Okay, you Mangy Fleabag, I thought.   The catfight is on.
I went about my visit with my family, planning Christmas dinner and talking over good times, but admittedly, I was watching the cat.   Watching and waiting.   It was my turn now!
I waited all day, until she was sound asleep on the couch, and I snuck up quietly and then at the right moment, I barked as loud as I could, sending her scrambling to safety.   For a grown, mature woman who should be above such things, I found it quite thrilling, actually.

I pretty much spent my entire visit that way.   I think we could have made a reality show for all the drama and betrayal we both committed that whole week.   If there had been an Acme company in which to order rocket powered skates or earthquake pills, I would have done it, if it would have meant one-upping that beast.   Somehow, I think she would have done the same….

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Mean Dean - 01-14-2011 13:33

:evil: Yep....you can always find a lot of action in a cat-house! :woohoo:
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Last Updated on Sunday, 09 January 2011 07:36