This week has been full of drama. As I’ve mentioned before, the little black cat in the neighborhood has caused some hate and discontent with Kitten Thunder by coming into our driveway. When the condo was in the office, the boys would be sleeping together and one of them would see the black cat and growl. The other sleeping brother would wake up thinking he was being attacked and a fight would happen between my cats.
And so the condo was moved out of the office.
This irritated me, that my cats were punished because some jerks think their cat wants to live outside. Yes, people who leave their cats outside are jerks – there, I said it. Outdoor cats live in fear. Their lives, on average, are cut in half. And their deaths are terrifying and painful if they run into a coyote, a car, a fox, a disease or a neighbor with a gun. If you don’t want a cat in your house, DON’T GET A CAT. I know some of my friends disagree, but this week? I don’t care. And this is why:
On Wednesday, the black cat climbed onto my roof and picked a fight with my cats through the window as they were napping on the cat shelf. I was working downstairs and ran up to find out what the screaming was about. When I saw the black cat outside, I slapped the glass. He LUNGED at the glass and stood, claws in the screen, screaming at me.
When I realized he wasn’t going to leave, I went outside and threw a stick at him. I yelled and threw things at him until he climbed down the neighbor’s tree and crossed out of their yard. Then I returned to Kitten Thunder.
Obi and Oliver were not calmed by the black cat leaving. Oli’s anger fed Obi’s, one growl met with a hiss an the hiss met with an arched back. I turned to one, then the other, trying to talk them down. It got worse and worse and worse.
Finally, I picked up Obi to move him away from Oliver to see if that would help. The stressed out brown kitten hissed as a reflex. And Oli LOST IT. “DON’T SAY THAT TO MY GIRL!” he screamed and launched off the cat shelf toward Obi, still in my arms. I backed up quickly and Oli missed us, landing on my foot and tearing flesh. Then he backed up to jump again.
Quickly, I sat down. I tried to get them to see that they were fighting each other, not the threatening black cat. Obi screamed, punched Oli in the face and ran for the stairs. They got downstairs much faster than me, obviously, and I found them in battle under the dining room table. This, of course, meant I had to reach into the fray blindly and grab whatever I could. More flesh tore. I got Oliver and locked him in my office.
Separated, my sweet kittens had a chance to catch their breath and regain their senses. I got Obi calmed down. My heart was still pounding. Oh yeah, and I was bleeding. A lot.
If you’re a Whovian, you can hear the voices of Gallifrey calling a certain question from the rip in my foot…and time.
Anyway, I needed to leave my house shortly after this incident. So what to do? I locked Obi in the basement with food, water and a litter box and let Oliver out of the office. Immediately, they were upset to be separated. I’m certain they sat together, on either side of the kitchen door, the entire time I was gone.
And while I was gone, I called animal control. I was surprised when they said they’d go try to find the black cat. Possibly, I think, because he lunged at me and people aggression is worse than pet aggression. I told the gentleman that, should he not be able to catch the cat (because seriously, he’s a cat) that I would borrow a humane trap and set it out. And if I have to I’ll catch that cat and turn it in daily until his owners get tired of paying $40 in bail.
I haven’t heard back from him about whether he had any luck. In the meantime, Kitten Thunder has to be locked in the Thunder Sanctuary (a.k.a the spare room) in the basement whenever we aren’t home during the day. I can’t even imagine if they’d had this big confrontation when I wasn’t home to intervene. I can imagine the huge vet bill, though.
It really isn’t fair to my cats that they can’t live in peace in their own home.
I have nothing funny to say about this. It’s horrible. Horrible for Oli and Obi. Horrible for the black cat who will be caught and evaluated and may not have a happy outcome if his owners’ bad decision has made his dangerous. And horrible for the owners who think they were doing a nice thing for their cat by letting it roam free.
But at least I’ll have the ultimate Whovian scar.
Wow, what an awful situation. I hope this gets resolved soon. And I’ll bet you anything that the black cat isn’t neutered.
You will have a cool scar, though, so there’s that. Unfortunately, right now it looks more like a painful gash.
The scar is actually healing pretty well, considering where it is. At least it is more than an arms length away so I can’t scratch at it.
Oh! And if the black kitty goes to kitty jail, I don’t think they’ll let him leave un-neutered. So there’s that.
You’re probably okay as long as it doesn’t start glowing.
Your gash looks like what Esme did to my ear awhile ago. Owww.
Also…I have those same shoes. Love ’em.
I love these shoes so much that I have them in black and brown. They are the only shoes I wear day to day.