When Kittens Attack: A Tail of Horror

Warning, there be cats ahead. Tomorrow is the day we officially lose the kitten status on Ginger. It is her birthday. We are not exactly sure when Troubadour’s birthday is but we know it is soon (he was abandoned so the shelter took their best guess. Ginger was born at our vets, so we know exactly). These are two of the strangest kittens I have ever had. This probably explains why I like them so much.

Troubadour is at least double the size of Ginger but easily the most gentle cat I have ever known. That isn’t to say he is without flaws. You see Troubadour is a big giant ball of skittish. I know that I am putting all my human feelings and emotions on it but I swear to you Ginger has figured this out. Troubadour loves to wrestle with Ginger. Often letting Ginger take the active role despite their size difference. The problem is in every wrestling match there comes a point where Troubadour needs to exert his size.

This is not usually because he is bullying Ginger (Troubadour long ago figured out that Ginger is far more fierce than him). No this is all about Troubadour’s cleaning fetish. At some point in every game Troubadour stops playing and starts cleaning. This usually entails sitting on Ginger in his giant Buddha pose.

Ginger has now taken to getting revenge by scaring the snot out of Troubadour every chance she gets. Many of these incidents are quite hilarious because despite his size Troubadour is quite nimble and athletic. Ginger scaring him usually leads to some high wire aerial act as Troubadour springs straight up in the air and goes all Matrix as he tries to locate the threat. It cracks me up every time.

Well, almost every time because sometimes Ginger thinks it’s funny to get Troubadour when he is nestled in a nice safe space, like my body. The worst of these incidents happened a couple of weeks ago on the night we got back from Hawaii. Troubadour was nestled up next to me warm and snug. Kitten engine purring away. Ginger sprung up from the floor. Launched herself over Sheri and landed right next to me.

This probably wouldn’t have been so bad except I was petting Troubadour which was effectively keeping him trapped against my side. Troubadour did not want to be trapped against my side. Ginger had scared the snot out of him. He made like a Road Runner cartoon and started up his legs to get out of there. His legs kicked several times found something to launch himself sideways off the bed and pushed off.

Of course, the something was the side of my body. I am not joking when I tell you I have five big claw marks on my side. He wasn’t messing around, he just wanted out. The marks were so ugly at first I thought I might be able to get away with calling it a shark bite. It’s funny now, not so much then. I hope Troubadour grows out of it because Ginger is like Cato from the Pink Panther, she is always springing out of a hiding place. She is a deadly Ninja assassin.

We got lucky with these two felines. They are both healthy and energetic. With unique little cat personalities. As they turn one I don’t think I will be able to stop calling them my kittens. I might have to give it another year. Here’s hoping Ginger keeps me out of her ninja attacks.

About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

2 Responses to “When Kittens Attack: A Tail of Horror”

  1. I hate to break it to you, but they will ALWAYS be your kittens. Mine is now 4 years old and I still call him my kitten – except when he uses the claws to get my attention!

  2. My mother’s cat used to do ninja ambushes on us. He’d wait around a corner when he heard us coming, then jump out and attack a leg.

    According to my brother, one of his friends taught the cat to “throw” paper balls. This led to the cat throwing a ball, then pouncing while said friend was distracted by it.

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