Mean Cats

Damn. Yesterday Moonstone attacked G’s ear because she was trying to get him out of the garage, back into the house. She bled all over the place—I mean, we had to wash blood out of the sweater she was wearing and it took quite a while to get the bleeding stopped. Today Mica attacked R’s arm with absolutely no provocation, drawing blood. Every time we pick them up to remove them from a place where they shouldn’t be, they’ve started biting and clawing us. Sometimes when we’re simply walking through the house, one of them will suddenly attack an ankle or calf.

I am a bona fide cat person. I have lived with them all my life. I have NEVER raised a mean cat before. Not once. I’ve always given them lots of love, let them come to me instead of picking them up, etc. Anybody who has met Shelley will tell you that she is an extreme cuddle slut. Andre and Thomas were the same way. So were Castor and Pollux, long-deceased kitties I raised with my first husband.

So why are Mica and Moonstone so mean? I can’t figure that out. R and G are a new factor, but they were around Andre and Thomas a lot, too. Shelley is an old, set-in-her-ways cat, and she isn’t picking on them at all—she just wants to be left alone.

I won’t have mean animals around. I never have. There is no reason to tolerate it, and I’m starting to really worry about what they’ll do to one of the babies or toddlers who visit us. They may be going to the pound to be euthanized if this continues. 🙁

Current Mood: 🙁worried
Cyn is Rick's wife, Katie's Mom, and Esther & Oliver's Mémé. She's also a professional geek, avid reader, fledgling coder, enthusiastic gamer (TTRPGs), occasional singer, and devoted stitcher.
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