Ahhhhhhhh..... The Cat from Hell

As I write it is 3.55 am. I have been woken AGAIN by my cats. I have three cats, one is completely normal and the other two are stark raving mad. I mean seriously bonkers. They persecute me; I'm convinced that they consider it their duty to see if they can make me throw myself out of the window through lack of sleep. Which I may do just to rub their noses in it because if they think anyone other than me will put up with their lunatic ways they are sadly mistaken. Now how did I acquire the first of these two instruments of torture?

Okay, cat one Tigga (aka Beelzebub) was a gift. Yes, A GIFT.

Now please accept my advice -Never give anyone an animal for a gift because if the animal turns out to be a pain in the arse the recipient WILL HATE YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY! Yes, the next time I see my ex colleagues I'll be wearing my combats and holding my semi automatic.

So to elaborate, 2 days before my wedding back in 1991 I left a job I had been in for a some years and at the end of the day all the staff gathered to me a send off with speeches and gifts appropriate for a housewife and bride to be;

1. A packet of J cloths.

2. A copy of "Eating for Two."

3. And one of those circular thingies you're supposed to wear on your wedding night...um... what's it called? Oh yes - a noose.

Anyway, just as I thought we were done the manager announced that they had another "special" gift for me. Hoorah! I thought...at last a stripogram! I didn't care which one; Tarzan, a fireman or even a chef, I was going to have some sexy virile young man do his stuff just for me! Yee Ha! So there I was, grinning from ear to ear, looking forward to a fun night on the tiles ....

So I looked with anticipation to the winding staircase for the dramatic entrance, waiting for the Stripper music to begin and feeling a little flustered. I'd never been on the receiving end of a male stripogram...what exactly was expected of me? But never one to give up a challenge I decided I would play along.... My heart was beating furiously... thump, thump, thump....Would my young hunk look like Pierce or Kevin? Or maybe Arnie? (The wine was beginning to take effect.)

Then suddenly on the staircase appears a colleague holding a ... KITTEN.

And the kitten was for me. SHoCK, HorroR!

(The noose suddenly felt enticingly silky in my hands.)

But being the polite lady I am, I said all the right things; "Oh isn't she lovely", "Oh how terribly kind " and " I've always wanted a kitten two days before I get married."

But inside I was thinking this;

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And very possibly a bit of this;

Oh fiddly, fiddly, fiddly dee! (Work out your own translation.)

Anyhow, I couldn't believe it! Did I really look like a gal who wanted a small black pussy?

Well, why would I? When I'd already had one?

Yes Sweetie, the stray cat had been living in my flat for the past few months. Presumably, my colleagues thought Sweetie pussy needed some company. But believe me, one bonkers wild cat was enough but another one was going to be an utter disaster.Because little did my colleagues know that Tigga would make Sweetie look sane ... Tigga would become The Cat From Hell.

Anyhow, well that was that; an evening of debauchery finished before it had even started. My last night of freedom ruined by this Beelzebub of a kitten. I rewrapped my prezzies and took the kitten home back in a cardboard box on the London Underground and then onto my parents' house the next day, deciding I could not leave it unattended with Sweetie The Stray for the next few days.

Well, I should have known Tigga was going to be serious trouble because the next night at my parents' home I put it back in its box hoping for a restful night's sleep before my Big Day. But no;

Meow, meow, scratch, scratch, meooooowwwww.....

Hours were passing...

Meow, meow, scratch, scratch...meooooowwwww....

Bags were appearing on my face, my energy was being sapped and I was beginning to look like Judy Finnegan. (Sorry folks; a UK in-house joke)Yep, I was becoming anxious I was going to look like a wrinkled old fossil. So against my better judgement, I decided I would just have to let Tigga out if I was to get any sleep at all and so with the kitten now content under the covers of my bed, I fell into a deep slumber...

The next morning I was putting on my bridal gown with the aid of my best friend when suddenly she screams...

"Oh my God Jane, what have you done to your back?!"

Yep, Tigga had scratched all down my back and somehow I'd slept through it; I looked like I'd had a night of passion with an overzealous lion.

Now ordinarily that wouldn't have mattered. But my wedding dress whilst being very conventional from the front, was a little more raunchy from the rear... it had a very low back. And well.... I looked like I actually had encountered the stripogram! Good heavens! What would all the maiden aunts say?

Tut, tut tut........naughty, naughty......whisper, whisper.....

Anyhow, my bridesmaid decided that it would be a good idea to try and cover it up with a heavy dose of foundation. ( Not my usual concrete mix but the brown stuff for faces.) Well, this seemed to be working well..... until....OH NO!.... my friend dropped the bottle of foundation down the back of my dress.... so now not only do I look scratched to death, I also look like ..... well.... I've had a problem with my colostomy bag......

I just hoped nobody noticed.......

Anyway, needless to say this was the beginning of Tigga'a relentless need to persecute me; bite my legs and toes, wake me, wake my children, stick her bottom in my face, lick my hair, crawl under the duvet, scratch the carpets, stairs, the doors, the sofa and ME. In fact, I am convinced she is the living incarnation of The Devil. And the most annoying thing is that she sleeps nearly all day and then at night as soon as my head touches the pillow she appears from nowhere to my cries of...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've tried everything over the years to placate her. Nothing works.

I AM A VICTIM OF A CAT!

Somebody help me pleeeeeeasssseeeeeee......

Copyright Jane Turley 2009.

Ps I apologise to Master SY for writing a post about cats - a pet hate of his. (If I may use that term.....he, he, he.....)