>Cats have no love for me.
My housemates’ cat, Madison, swipes at my head from the upstairs banister as I begin my descent. I am not certain where this unbridled hostility stems from. My only consolation is that she attacks her own tail with the same fervor and enthusiasm. Madison does not play favorites.
My other housemates’ cat, Mariah, hates the planet. She is 19 years old and if there is such an ailment as feline senility, I guarantee you she is inflicted. At one point I went to intervene between yet another altercation between her and Madison (they have no love for each other, either…) and she turned on me. She twitched and hissed and, I swear, her eyes flamed red as she latched on with her brittle antiquated paws leaving two of them embedded in my flesh. The entire claw. Separated from her person. Cat-ness. Whatever. I had to rip them from the tops of my hands with abject curiosity and disgust.
I informed her father of what had transpired. He responded, “yeah…she’s starting to leave…things…around the house.”
The day I trip over a kitty-limb, that’s it, man. I’m gettin’ a dog.