The True Story of a Super Adorable Little Girl and MEAN CATS.

I know that I have mentioned before that I don't like cats. And cats do not like me. When they see me they generally hiss and scratch at me before running off.

It could be because every time I see one of them I hiss until they leave. I'm very mature like this.

So. Let me share a quaint little story with you.

wavy lines and sparkles while i transport you back in time approximately 31 years...(don't bother doing the math. i will cutchoo.)

Once upon a time there was a beautiful, gorgeous, precious, cute, charming...ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes.

Super adorable little 3 year old girl. She loved kitties.

One day she somehow got a kitty. I don't know why or where or how, but she had a kitty. Kitty was dark colored and her name was Louie. Yes. Her. Name was Louie.

Her sister also got a kitty. This kitty was light colored and seemed more like a ginormous tiger cat. Her name was Jack. Yes. Her. Name was Jack.

One fine day super adorable little girl was petting Jack. Out of the clear blue skies came a bolt of lightning and thunder, the ground opened up and Jack sprouted horns and roared, "I am the devil!"

Super adorable little girl was in shock. And then she realized that none of that happened.

What happened was that out of the clear blue, Jack scratched her eye. And when I say "scratched her eye," let me elaborate.

Jack scratched her eye and Jack's claw hooked itself into her lower eye lid. Then.

Jack pulled. Jack pulled her claw back really fast pulling the claw through the eye lid like a fishing hook. Jack pulled some more.

Eventually Jack's claw was free of the pesky eye lid and the eye lid now sported a gaping "V" shaped slice.

After that, super adorable little girl's memory becomes fuzzy. Could be cuz she had to wear a stupid eye patch forever and that nothing could be done to fix it except to let it heal back together since it was so close to the eyeball.

Jack went to live on a farm. Yep. With all the other satanic cats.

wavy lines and sparkles as i transport you back to present time.

That super adorable little girl never did get over her mistrust and dislike of cats. I'm sure you all figured out that that little girl is me. Cuz I'm super adorable. Duh! Imagine her dismay when she opens the front door to this:

um. exsqueeze me? what the h - e - double hockey sticks do you want? didn't you get the neighborhood memo? the chick in the blue house hates cats. this is what i am assuming is an uber friendly cat. why, then, does the face look like it's saying, "murder death kill you lady!" they all look like that, i swear.

Awhile later I hear some meowing and scratching at my door. I open it and here is:

stupid cat. again. go away!

The next day I'm just pulling into the driveway from a quick trip to the store and I look out my window to see this cat. Sitting there. Staring at me.

By the time I get my phone out to snap a picture of his creepiness, this is what I capture:

hello? what. do. you. want.

I have my arms full of bags when I get to the front door. It's hard to practice my ninja skills to get into the house without letting the dang cat in with my arms full and this at my feet:

i really want to kick gently shove you out of the way, kitty.

A few days later:

sitting on my bench just thinkin' he's king of the world. he has a collar. notice that black thing hanging there. the boys tell me he is actually a she and her name is Smokey. Whatever.

cat hair. all over my pillows that are on my bench. and. and! and? a ginormous snag in one now where the little stinkpot's claw got tangled. grrr.

Anyway.
Way. Too. Much. Cat!  Sometimes. Sometimes? Sometimes I walk out onto the porch and am immediately assaulted with the smell. You know the smell. The smelly smell...of CAT POOP.

It irritates me because I don't own a cat. I don't want to have to smell CAT POOP in my flower beds near my front porch. I mean, really. Does anyone want to smell CAT POOP? I don't think so. In fact. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that CAT POOP is possibly the worst smell in the world. Or. At least the worst smelling POOP in the world.

***Edited to add something I forgot to tell everyone before. The cat belongs to our neighbor who lives directly across the street from us. She is NOT starving. She is named Smokey. My boys informed me of this because she belongs to their friends.***
I've been having nightmares about cats lately. I think it's Smokey's fault. Smokey might have to go live on a farm. Maybe Smokey will get to play with Jack.

Do you think Jack resented being called Jack when she was a girl? Don't tell me it was her expressing her anger towards gender confusion...?

Whatever.