When I turned into a tree

Cats. They are a special species unto themselves. You have your sweet cuddly ones, your independent don’t-touch-me cats and a variety in between. But in a category all their own, you have the I-will-murder-you-in-your-sleep cats. I have such a cat. I believe that Lizzie (named from one of my favorite Austen books) is a reincarnated serial killer. My sister will attest to that. I thought that no cat could scare me and make me want to lock all my doors and windows as she can. However, I met another possible candidate the other day.

If you haven’t already met one of these types of cats, it may be difficult for you to understand what I’m talking about. But believe me, this is no laughing matter. I met this cat in a Vet clinic. It was the office cat that freely roamed the front area and greeted clients. It was small, white and had a tail with a kink in it. A very nice innocent looking cat...it was white after all.

So I, being the pet-friendly, fur-loving person I am, knelt down to say hello while I waited for the receptionist/vet tech. The cat spoke softly to me - her, (I’m guessing), usual ‘hello. Nice to meet you’ - and began to pace back and forth around my feet. Soon after, when she realized I was going to give her my full attention (or as full as I’m capable of) she put her front paws on my lap to get a better look.

The cat said to me, “Ooh, I love your pants. Is that denim? And this? Wool, am I right? I just looove wool. What is the thread count on these things?” At which point she began to test the thickness of my jeans with her ever-sharp nails.

Startled by the sudden pain in my thigh, I quickly shoved the cat off and stood up. However, I figured that it would be some time before I got help, and since I have one of the shortest attention spans known to man, I knelt down again to pet the cat. That is when it got dangerous.

At that moment, the receptionist/vet tech was ready to help me. But as I prepared to stand up, the cat scrambled as fast as possible and as close to my body as possible up into my lap, up my torso and onto my shoulder. It happened so quickly that I had no idea where the cat had gone until I was standing. Then I discovered the large white hairy mass digging into my neck. I felt claws, a cold nose and lots of hair clinging deeper into my wool coat. I swear that cat tried to strangle me with its nose. Then I felt teeth. The cat had wrapped itself around my neck and was attempting to become one with me by rubbing its face against me.

I panicked and lightly patted the cat, hoping to placate it. Meanwhile, the person at the desk stared at me, waiting for me to explain why I was there. It was only with years of experience and skill dealing with wild hawks and my own serial killer cat, I was able to deftly remove the cat off my shoulder.

I avoided her the rest of my visit. The key was to stay standing and avoid eye contact.

It makes me even more wary of my own serial killer cat. Lizzie has intense cravings for affection that usually end with my arms being mangled by teeth and claws. Luckily last night she was distracted by my dog who wanted to play, “I’ve got your ear.” This is not Lizzie’s favorite game but it saves me from having to buy bucket loads of band-aids.

Don't let the picture below fool you. This is not a cute lovable cuddly cat. This is in fact Lizzy holding on to her precious Soul Box.