Clyde and Clara are Karen's cats, whom I have described before in my writings. Well, Karen left for Michigan last Wednesday, and I have been cat-sitting again. I thought things were going very well, Clyde is always glad to see me, Clara is neurotic as usual. Until yesterday.
Clyde, who usually greets me at the door, was nowhere to be found yesterday morning. I could hear him meowing, but could not see him. I finally found him under the ottoman, when I moved it, there he was. I said, "Oh, poor Clyde, were you stuck there? (he wasn't)" and I reached down to pet him, and he attacked my hand, scratched up my arm and bit me! I retrieved my bleeding limb, and thought, FOR GOODNESS SAKE What is wrong with him.
I went upstairs, gave him fresh food and water, cleaned his litter box, did the same for Clara(who, by the way, was quite happy to see me), and started back down the stairs, and there was Clyde again, about 3/4 of the way down the stairs, back arched, hissing looking like Satan re-incarnated. I stepped closer, and he attacked my foot, which fortunately had on a sturdy New Balance sneaker, and pushed him down a step. He hissed and tried again.
I decided to "channel" the dog whisperer, and thinking more like a cat whisperer, I hissed back at him and stomped my feet on the stairs. It worked. He ran.
What the heck got into him.
I took my bloody arm home, washed it well with soap and water, treated it with antibiotic cream and a couple of bandaids. Hopefully I won't turn into a were-cat or get some sort of pasturella infection. Damn thing. That's the last time I cat sit for them!
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