I wrote the other day about my mis-adventures with my nephew’s demon-cat. Well, demon-cat nearly left the world of the living last night. And she has only me to thank for her chance to terrorize America another day.
It all started a little over a week ago when I came to Chicago to spend Easter at my parents, and then stayed on since my nephew Illias was getting married this past weekend. His younger brother Anthony was in the process of moving back in to his mom’s place, while looking for another apartment, and he couldn’t keep his cat at his mom’s (my sister) because she’s allergic. So, grandma got it.
Well. We’re on day 10 of KC, aka Khaleesi, aka demon-cat, stalking me through the house, rolling on her back (the way cats do when they’re flirting with you), right before trying to swipe a chunk out of my leg.
Fast forward to yesterday.
Though the day began with demon cat chasing me through the house in order to rub up sweetly against my leg before looking up and hissing maniacally at me, things seemed to get a bit better for the first time since I arrived at mom’s over a week ago. Demon-cat didn’t hiss at me throughout the rest of the day, and even let me pet her while she slept on the couch. (Though the third time I tried to pet her she, of course, tried to rip my hand off.)
In the meantime, Sasha, who has been routinely trapped by demon-cat in various corners of the house, finally started fighting back. Twice my little ten-pound girl growled at demon-cat, who was blocking her way, and was able to scare the cat off.
Well, last night demon-cat finally met her maker.
Mom and I had run off to Portillo’s to get an easy and yummy dinner, and we’d just finished eating when I decided I want to save half of my cake-shake for tomorrow. So I open the freezer, mom makes some room in the back, I jam the shake in, and notice demon-cat dart under the freezer drawer. (Mom has one of those pull-out freezers underneath the fridge.)
I ignore demon-cat, figuring she darted out the other side, and go to shut the freezer drawer and it sticks about halfway in. I just had a bad feeling about it, shook it a bit, and looked underneath to make sure demon-cat wasn’t still under the drawer. Phew, she wasn’t.
So I try to shut the drawer again, and again it’s sticking, like it’s hitting the Costco-sized package of frozen sweet potato fries. Mom says, “just jam it hard,” but again, silly me, I just had a bad feeling about it.
Where’s the cat, I asked. What do you mean, mom replies. I start looking around the kitchen, and don’t see the cat anywhere – though that doesn’t mean much, cats can run and hide anywhere.
Then, I bend down again, and look under the drawer, and there, BEHIND the drawer, INSIDE the freezer, is demon-cat. Yes, the drawer was getting stuck because she was behind it.
I don’t know how people keep these things as pets.
But let me just say, to all those who branded me a cat-hater (in addition to a sexist, misogynist, racist, bisexual-hating, transgender-hating, military-hating, foreskin-hating, white, cisgender, man), I could have sent demon-cat to whatever level of hell bipolar feral felines inhabit. And I chose to double check.
PS Anthony is likely going to have to get rid of demon-cat, as mom is not happy about the prospect of demon-cat spending a few months here. Mom’s shedding-animal days are over. So if anyone in the Chicago area might be interested in a one-year-old calico cat, who apparently loves everyone except me, feel free to let me know. Not kidding. He’s asked his friends and no one can take her. Thanks.