dont trust it

Not the best picture, no shot of the abnormally long hind legs or short tail. Its fangs are massive.

Okay this blog has come together based on my experiences with an evil F’N cat. First it was the horrid events I have experienced at this cats fat mutant paws, then it was some replies to other peoples blogs and finally while writing an essay for Composition I about the fat F***er I decided to make it a blog.

Here is what the blog replies choicist bits were like: “the cat gets a frikin room and i get that old uncomfortable chair that no one will even set in?” “Oh that cat. THAT EVIL F’N CAT! When ever it catches me falling asleep it starts walkin to the other end of the house. Then just as I am dozing off it gets a running start and leaps so its entire weight is behind the hadouken it delivers with one-fat-overfed-declawed-paw to my face (it goes for they eyes, lips and nose).
Okay I had never even heard of a Manx being a house pet till my sister started breeding them. She thought if she bred a full blood manx with a regular housecat then she would get an exotic looking domestic animal she could sell. SHE MADE SATAN!
Eventually she gave up the idea. this one though had been declawed and her boyfriend at the time didn’t like it (wonder why), so she gave it to my parents. Its dreams of being a prize fighter are a source of comedic entertainment to them (whom it never hadoukens). Thank god the basement door keeps the cat upstairs. If I get drowsy I just head downstairs so SATAN can’t practice evil cat fu on me.”
” I get to spend the next week looking after the damn animal while they are on vacation. Yay slave to the cat from the ninth layer. I can’t even get revenge on it cause if anything happens to it, if it so much as acts funny when they get back, I am out.
So yeah a lot to the cat situation that I did not explain. Sometimes I am just minding my own buisness, walking to the fridge or whatever and it hisses at me then its the parents screaming at me for a half hour. If I try to go to the bathroom at night it emits this low satanic growl that a cat should not be capable of.
I don’t hit it. I don’t do anything mean to it. I even try (unsuccessfully) to pet it at times. Do not get a manx or even a half manx. Man I gotta clean up its litter for a week. I have sunken so low I am looking after that satan spawns excriment.”
“I can use this week off to catch up on the college homework they (the parents) kept interupting on me all week. Why does my life have to be full of such bad weird unbelieveable crap? Seriously that cat! WHO HAS THAT KIND OF CAT COME IN TO THEIR LIFE THAT ISN’T IN A CARTOON!?”

So …yeah that is about how it goes. It is some funny stuff I guess, if your not the one taking the paw to the face. Anyway below is the paper I wrote and will be turning in soon.

My parent’s cat is plotting to kill me. They live in the country and have a few nice, well adjusted, normal tempered outdoor cats. The one indoor cat should be locked up. It is anything but normal. It is absolutely devious.

When we moved to the country I was seven years old. My mom started collecting out door cats. They didn’t eat much, as they could get most of what they needed hunting field mice. So I grew up used to outdoor cats. They were generally nice and well mannered. Occasionally she would have one that was afraid of people, but that was as bad as it got.

My sister has changed this. She had gotten the idea from one of her friends. It was a silly get rich quick scheme that failed. It started with a drive to Nebraska in a blizzard. That should have been the first hint. She bought a full blooded Manx cat for a few hundred dollars.

She spent the next year breeding it with normal housecats in an attempt to sell exotic looking and expensive house pets. They didn’t sell well and she quickly gave up on the idea. She did keep one she had declawed however.

Now I need to make clear how evil the full blooded-hell’s-spawn Manx was. It was a definite candidate for an exorcism. It was absolutely wild in the most bestial sense of the word. This feral thing only looked like a cat in as far as it had orange, like Garfield, fur. It sounded like a larger cat. It looked like something that should be in a zoo. It was fairly oversized; as far as cats go I would say about twice the size of a normal housecat.

It didn’t really do what I would call breeding either. Yes it did impregnate a few rather unfortunate housecats, but I don’t think that is what this cat was going for. It looked more like attempted murder. This thing had to have been a serial killer in a past life.

One time, when my sister was trying to put it in a pet carrier for some insane reason, it climbed a cement wall in her basement. It went straight up this cement wall at top speed with no trouble. The only thing I can figure out is that it somehow dug its claws into the paint on the wall and used that to get up the wall. It was so heavy of a cat though. It just doesn’t seem like it should have been able to climb this wall.

So that explains where this cat gets its temperament. This half-Manx had a demon possessed father. This half-breed thing is more devious though. It can pull many of the controlling tricks of a normal housecat.

So why is this cat my problem then? Well here is the part where the world of the cat and my world collide. The cat wins big time and I live in fear of this beast.

I had lost the house I was renting and while moving out my parents said I could stay with them. This is embarrassing enough by itself. No one wants to move back into their parent’s house.  This cat makes a
bad situation worse.

Besides shedding an abnormal amount, which causes my eyes to water and my nose to run and gives me sneezing fits, besides that fun this cat has its own room in the house. I found this out in a rather strange way. It consisted of me saying “so am I going to be staying in the empty room in the back of the house” My parents said something to the effect of “no that’s the cats room”. To make a long story short, no amount of arguing or logic would convince my parents to let me stay in this huge room that the cat only went in to eat. Yes I have even moved the food dish and proven that this cat doesn’t care what room it eats in.

My parents would not budge on this cat room idea. So I got an old reclining chair in the living room. It didn’t bother me at first. I figured I wouldn’t be staying long so whatever, at least it is a place to stay. Then I noticed the cat staring at me.

This cat would lurk all around the house and stare at me. When it got sleepy it would sleep at the other end of the living room. When I got sleepy and started to doze off it started its Mixed Martial Arts training. Its training dummy was my face.

I am not kidding. This thing likes to deliver punches with its full weight and speed behind them. At first, as I was dozing off I heard this stampeding noise that was getting closer at a very high speed. The next thing I know I get hit in the face and hear the stampeding going away from me equally fast.

Eventually, one night, I opened my eyes as I heard the stampeding. What I saw was a thing of horror. It had leapt into the air and arc its body so that every muscle was taught and adding to the force of the one hideously-outstretched-cat-fist flying at my face.

This thing that it does, this horrible cat-kung-Fu is very well executed. I have managed to catch all of it with time. It starts moving over to the chair when I look drowsy. Then it sits in wait. Once I look like I am falling asleep it begins to run around the house in a big circle. It goes clear to the back of the house
building up speed. On the return trip it pushes with its back feet and tightens
every muscle as it brings its paw forward so that no single muscle is wasted,
all add to the force. Just when it’s about to connect it brings its head and
other paw down hard to really bring the swing in with power.

Now my parent’s house is not a messy place. It is very clean and open. Perfect for a cat trying to gain momentum and punch me. It goes for my lips, my nose and my eyes. After one cat’s paw in the mouth to many and sore eyes and nose I decided to move to the one cluttered place. The spot where my parents store everything, their basement, and the only cluttered place at their house. I managed to make a path and clear one spot big enough for a cot and my desktop computer, if I placed the monitor and keyboard on a small dinner tray.

The cat does not like that I have moved out of its territory and disturbed its karate dreams.  It watched the first three nights. It would be waiting for me at the basement door every time I came up to use the restroom. It would follow me very closely. It never follows me, I thought. This didn’t make sense. It was exhibiting normal cat behavior.

If only that was true then I would have ended the nightmare with a simple move to the basement. After the third night it began climbing up on things and jumping down loudly. While upstairs this didn’t make much noise, but for some unholy reason this is very loud when you’re in the basement. It also began running around the floor. That slightly loud stampeding from before becomes hell’s herd when you’re in the basement. It really sounds like a pack of large animals.

The next few nights were not good ones. Its new plan was making sleep impossible. It no longer followed me closely it just sits where it can watch me come out of the basement and walk to the rest room. It meows a strange noise that I must assume is a victory cry. Its diabolical plan had worked.

While on the subject of its cat meows I should explain that it does not sound like any other housecat. It makes these unnerving clicking noises that sound a bit like the ghost lady from “Ju-on”. For those of you who do not know “Ju-on is the original Japanese version of “The Grudge” and the ghost sounds much creepier in it. This feral monster of a cat also has a noise that is loud sharp and can only be written as MEH. It also emits a low growl not unlike the sound of a mother pit-bull protecting her pups (my friend had locked himself outside of his house but the window, to where he was raising the then-legal pit-bulls, was open and I was the easiest to lift. That’s how I know that sound).

A few nights more and this cat unleashed its new trick on me with a vengeance. If I am in a hurry to use the restroom she hides in the shadows and as I pas quickly hisses at me or emits that evil growl. I think the cat is trying to get me to wet myself.

Since then this cat has taken to hiding all over the house in odd places and trying to scare me. It has a ninja like ability to hide in the oddest places. It also knows exactly which strange noise to use at each time to maximize the surprise.

It has begun exhibiting other strange behaviors. It started sniffing my shoes and sticking its head in them.  It sometimes lays on them when it is time for me to leave for class and of course wants to fight me for them. On hot-sunlit days it guards my hats. Recently it has also begun sniffing my backpack and anything else I bring around it as if it is thinking of a way to use it against me.

One night I pretended to go back into the basement. I did this to see what else this cat, my nemesis, is up to. I watched it jump ridiculous heights onto things and now have no doubt it could make it on top of the fridge. I watched it open cupboards and search around inside them, then make sure to close them with its paw as it left.  I viewed what I assume was it testing something; I am not really sure the purpose, but it would begin spinning its head around with one of its toys in its mouth and then launch it to different places. I am not sure why it did this, but it can’t be a good thing.

It has found was to torture me while I am awake. If I recline a chair it leaps up behind it and smacks me on the head. If I look around the back of a chair
(because I can feel it looking at me) it jumps up and hits me in the face. If I
put my arm in the arms of a chair it will sneak up next to it and smack my arm as hard as it can and then run. It just does not want me to relax for even a second.

Now at this point I have to make it clear that I am nice to this cat. I have tried to make a truce and didn’t even make the first move in this war.  I have tried petting it. This cat actually hates being petted.  I tried giving it a treat and it walked up to me hissed, then growled and walked away. It didn’t even take the treat.

I feed it. I refill its water dish. I take the long way everywhere in the house to avoid disturbing it. I have tried everything. I even stay calm near it I do this
because I have heard that animals can sense your emotions because of pheromones or something.

Now at this point most people would simply right it off as a feral-half-Manx that shouldn’t be a house pet.  Please remember though I did warn you it is devious. When my mom would normally be talking to herself it will run up and make various odd noises, as if it is carrying on a conversation. When my dad has had a bad day and sighs, because there is nothing on satellite television she will come into the room purring and jump up onto his lap.

It does not even begin to stop its manipulative set up there either. Mid weird growl it can sense them coming into the room and switch to a wide eyed innocent look and almost normal sounding half-meow. Sometimes when it jumps out of nowhere to scare me they will get mad and ask what I did to the cat. That’s right it frames me. If I drop an ice cube it will run into the kitchen and hit the fallen cube away from me with its paw. It then waits for me to try to pick up this ice cube. The second I lean over for the cube, after walking across the kitchen to it, the cat will hit it under an appliance or something. Later it always fishes it out and leaves it to melt and of course I get yelled at for leaving ice to melt on the kitchen floor.

I have tried to bring up the maladjusted nature of their cat to my parents. They either don’t believe what is say, or blame me, or actually find it funny. That is right the-flying-cat-strikes-the-sleeping man-technique it practices on me, with intent to kill is funny to them. No it hasn’t given me a bruise yet, but
waking up with a paw in your mouth isn’t exactly fun and sleep deprivation
torture is unhealthy. It has gotten away with its diablerie.

This cat doesn’t do these things to other people. This cat isn’t trying to escape the house, because when I leave the door open to the porch it doesn’t even go
through if I walk away. No I was not trying to get it to run away, the porch
has a door and it was closed. Yes if it hid out there it could sneak away. My
point is that it does not experiment with sneaking around and throwing toys for the purpose of escape. It does these things because my parents are asleep and it the beginnings of a new nefarious plot. God help me I have no clue what it is up to at this point.

Now my parents have gone on vacation. Due to the cat’s recent behavior they do not trust me and have my sister constantly checking up on me and their neighbors watching as well. I have only tried to make peace with this terrorist of a cat, so this is all rather annoying.

I am still going about everything as if the cat were normal. I am not trying to hurt it, although I wouldn’t object to someone putting a shock color on it, or closing it in its room at night. I am not one for violence towards animals, I just don’t enjoy that, but this cat is no animal it is a devil in cats fur. I know that the second they get back it is going to put on a dramatic show and get them thinking I have done something to it.

Recently it has begun slowly creeping to the bottom- stair of the basement entry and looking around emitting an ominous rattling noise that is almost an exact match of the noise the monster makes in the movie “The Predator” (That weird clicking noise as the monster looks at its prey from seclusion). Yes I am sure at this point the cat wants me dead. Whether it is a heart attack from fright at four fifteen in the morning or aneurism from stress, it is trying to kill me.

So thats the paper that will be turned in soon. While I wrote this blog and while I edited it the cat, that F’N cat! was circling me like a shark. It is up to something.


it is 2/21/2012


So, I am petting the cat known as satan in religious texts, when it takes one of it’s front declawed paws and smacks me on the forehead and then drags it’s paw across my glasses trying to knock them off. I walk away bewildered. Some three minutes later I go to the restroom for a pee break and notice four red dots on my forehead. No! NO F’N WAY! I thought. I look closer and sure enough they are in a half circle shape…the kind of shape toes on a paw would have. I HAVE FOUR RED TOE SHAPED LITTLE DOTS FROM THE DEVIANT MAL ADJUSTED DEMON OF A FUR BAG ON MY HEAD! IT LEFT MARKS FROM IT’S UNLCAWED PAW! WHAT KIND OF HOUSE CAT HAS THAT STRENGTH! THIS PROVES IT IS TOO WILD FOR DOMESTICATION! THAT HALF MANX IS THE DEVIL!


it was 2/27/2012

So,…Petting the cat again. It makes all these cute, innocent, mekk and helpless sounding meows… I decide to get down to face level with the cat and meow back…F’N THING SMACKS ME IN THE FACE AND CURLS ITS PAW IN TIME TO CATCH HOLD OF MY GLASSES, ONLY TO RIP THEM OFF AND PULL THEM TO ITS CHEST! IT STOLE MY GLASSES!