Bobby and I have a monster living with us. Oh, you didn't know? His name is Killian... and he doesn't like me. One. Bit. For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while or have visited our apartment, you probably know that our cat is quite cordial to visitors. He'll rub against your leg or purr loudly. He'll even perform a trick...if he feels like it. He'll even escort you to the door and poke his [snarling] nose out to sniff around. But my friends, as soon as you exit our third floor loft, that sweet Killian turns into a nasty beast.
Mind you, his performance is only in full swing when Bobby is NOT around. Let me take you back with us to that Lowly Pet's Mart on Route 40 in Baltimore. B and I had been dating only a few months at that point. He moved into his own apartment and the first order of business was to get him a cat to keep him company at home. I dragged him into the store (mind you, this man is not so fond of animals. Any animal) as I just about skipped on over to the pet adoption center. I instantly spotted a litter of kittens and was completely smitten. Killian stood out with that cute little spot on his nose. We took him home, all fluffy and cute, and played with him constantly every time I went to Bobby's place. About two years went by and Bobby and I were finally married. Naturally, we moved into our first apartment together, kitty cat and all!
The first night at our new home, Bobby turned out the lights to go to bed. As I was still in the other (now, dark) room, I hear Killian's little bell ringing and can tell he's approaching quite fast. "Good Boy, Killian!" I whisper, thinking he's coming to "lick" me good-night. But instead of a nice, loving lick, I get a mean, nasty and very painful BITE! As he laid a kung-fu grip around my ankle with his paws, I began to yell and scream and shake my leg to remove the monster. After a big ol' smack to his feline behind, I sprinted my way back to our bedroom and slammed the door.
Now, a year and a half later from that night, Bobby has thought this to be HILARIOUS and so almost every night, my two boys gang up on me and they recreate the routine over. And over. And over. What did I do to deserve such a nasty bite from my sweet, fluffy feline? Perhaps he sees me as an intruder on his guy time with B. Who knows. Either way, the boy is a little stinker... Killian, that is.
Bobby and I have a monster living with us. Oh, you didn't know? His name is Killian... and he doesn't like me. One. Bit. For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while or have visited our apartment, you probably know that our cat is quite cordial to visitors. He'll rub against your leg or purr loudly. He'll even perform a trick...if he feels like it. He'll even escort you to the door and poke his [snarling] nose out to sniff around. But my friends, as soon as you exit our third floor loft, that sweet Killian turns into a nasty beast.
Mind you, his performance is only in full swing when Bobby is NOT around. Let me take you back with us to that Lowly Pet's Mart on Route 40 in Baltimore. B and I had been dating only a few months at that point. He moved into his own apartment and the first order of business was to get him a cat to keep him company at home. I dragged him into the store (mind you, this man is not so fond of animals. Any animal) as I just about skipped on over to the pet adoption center. I instantly spotted a litter of kittens and was completely smitten. Killian stood out with that cute little spot on his nose. We took him home, all fluffy and cute, and played with him constantly every time I went to Bobby's place. About two years went by and Bobby and I were finally married. Naturally, we moved into our first apartment together, kitty cat and all!
The first night at our new home, Bobby turned out the lights to go to bed. As I was still in the other (now, dark) room, I hear Killian's little bell ringing and can tell he's approaching quite fast. "Good Boy, Killian!" I whisper, thinking he's coming to "lick" me good-night. But instead of a nice, loving lick, I get a mean, nasty and very painful BITE! As he laid a kung-fu grip around my ankle with his paws, I began to yell and scream and shake my leg to remove the monster. After a big ol' smack to his feline behind, I sprinted my way back to our bedroom and slammed the door.
Now, a year and a half later from that night, Bobby has thought this to be HILARIOUS and so almost every night, my two boys gang up on me and they recreate the routine over. And over. And over. What did I do to deserve such a nasty bite from my sweet, fluffy feline? Perhaps he sees me as an intruder on his guy time with B. Who knows. Either way, the boy is a little stinker... Killian, that is.
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