I went into battle for my cat
Karen Jones, 61, from Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, loves her cat, Grace, so much she didn’t hesitate once to fight for her even if it left her with some battle wounds!
It was the Monday night after a long weekend. I was just drifting into the kitchen to wash up when I heard an unearthly sound. It was like all of the banshees of the underworld were having a conference in my backyard. I tore outside to see my poor little cat being attacked by the nasty black and white tomcat who harasses her every spring. In spite of numerous hose squirts over the past decade, this testosterone tom, this pussy pervert intent on getting his moggy rocks off, had the absolute gall to leap on my poor Grace and start hammering away.
I discovered the hose was undone so did the only thing a true pussy lover can do, I ripped him off her, and he ripped into me. I screeched and let the nasty beast go and he tore off into the dark. Grace staggered inside where I prepared to offer her counselling. Suddenly the pain set in. Blood dripped from both arms and hands, he had torn holes in my even where I had a sweatshirt on. I went into shock. My neighbour heard my cries for help and doused me in betadine. After ringing the 1800 medical help number (great invention) I was advised to get a Tetanus booster and antibiotics the next day
My mother was an avid cat lover. My father hated them. He was in a house with a wife and four daughters who would offer undying love and affection for the cat while he sat in his chair waiting for his tea. He would give the poor thing a sneaky cuff or boot up the backside when he thought he wasn’t being observed. However, if God had said to love cats, then there would have been an altar for them under the Cross which hung over our fireplace.
Yes, I am known for my love of cats. I have left one relationship because the offending male did not like my cat. I have had relationships which have lasted longer with cats than with some people. I know they are aloof and imperious. They are selfish and self-absorbed. Probably why I have such an affinity with them (just joking). I just love their shape, the texture of their fur, the perfect symmetry of their face and just their essential “mogginess”. I like dogs, but I love cats. Dogs bark and poo in unsuitable places. Both things annoy me. Cats at least have the dignity and grace to poo discretely, and in my neighbour’s garden, not mine…
Anyway, I am mending well, and knew that as I walked into work the day after my phone message told them “I’m not coming in because I got attacked by a cat”, would produce some riotous mirth – and I was not wrong. Lots of cat calls, meows and of course, being the calm, level headed, well balanced and good humoured person that I am, I took it all in my stride. I’m not a woman to sit around feeling sorry for myself and saying “paw” me.
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