She’s Trying To Kill Me

You’re all aware of Snowbell, my evil cat.  Oh, don’t be fooled by her ridiculously cute chipmunk face and strangely short legs or her blue eyes and kittenish ways.  No, no.  I’m convinced that she is really trying to kill me.  What other explanation could there be for her behavior?

Snowbell the Diabolical has a plan.  What is her plan? To deprive me of sleep and induce some kind of psychosis that will result in my death.  She is winning.  Her strategy? She pretends to have an obsession with her food dish as I’ve already described..  As soon as she sees the bottom of her dish–even if it’s full of food–she panics and runs around the house mewing.  She searches me out, cries, and leads me to her dish in a flustered, anxious state.  I stare at her dish.  I observe that it does indeed have food.  Sure, a bit of food has been eaten most likely by Snowbell herself, but Snowbell must perpetuate the deception that she’s obsessive.  The dish must always be full lest she display panic.

Enter Ginger the Buxom, our other cat.  I suspect that Ginger is eating the food, too.  Well, of course, she is.  She lives here.  She is allowed to eat from the food dish and eat more than her share she does! This would account for her present girth.  Perhaps Snowbell has just struck a bargain with Ginger.  Maybe Ginger is in collusion with Snowbell and she, too, is trying to kill me by pretending to enable Snowbell’s obsession with the food dish.  Ginger eats just enough of the food to reveal the bottom of an otherwise full dish, thus, giving Snowbell a reason to have multiple daily and nightly panic attacks.

What did Snowbell do last night? She pretended to sleep peacefully on my feet.  Around 2:30 AM she began to try to kill me…yet again  She lightly scratched at the wall which produced a very annoying sound akin to a cat filing their claws with sandpaper.  I ignored it.  Eventually, she scratched more  loudly.  This must be when she began filing her claws with a Dremel tool.  I ignored her still.  She proceeded to claw the box springs.  At this point, I began to fantasize that I was Lara from “Dr. Zhivago” and was wearing Snowbell as a hat.

Julie Christie  Doctor Zhivago (1965)

Oh what a warm pelt you have, Snowbell.

Then Snowbell appeared on the bed.  She stood on me and cried.  I ignored her.  She stood on my chest and cried.  I played dead.  She sniffed my face to check for life.  She then turned her attention toward my husband.  He is easy prey because he’s predictable.  He isn’t as determined and tenacious as I.  All Snowbell has to do is scratch his face, and she’ll get a response.  She looked at me in the darkness, and then she quietly stalked over to his side of the bed, sniffed at him, and then attempted to scratch his face! I, however, grabbed her and locked her out of the bedroom before she could make her mark.  I thought I’d won the battle.  I thought it was over.

I have been trying to defeat this cat, but, so far, she has bested me.  I have ignored her.  I have locked her out of our bedroom.  I have tried to put her on a feeding schedule.  Nothing has worked.  It doesn’t matter what I do.  She comes for me every single night and begins the nightly hunt just like the night before.  I think she likes it.  Last night, she kicked my ass.  I was up five times.  FIVE TIMES.  I ignored her.  I locked her out of the bedroom.  This time, however, she upped the ante by caterwauling by our door.  O the noises that damn cat produced! I let her back in.  She started the Scratching Protocol again right where she left off.  I locked her out again.  She started howling again.  This went on until 6 AM until I just gave up and got up.  As soon as I got up, she ran into the kitchen and sat by her bowl.  There was food in it, but the bottom was exposed.  She looked at me anxiously.  I pointed at her dish and said, “I am not giving you more food.  You will eat what’s in your bowl before I give you more food.  Stop this nonsense, Snowbell!” That cat had the insolence to eat the food in her dish after depriving me of four hours of sleep.

Guess who wants to kill whom now?


How To Tell If Your Cat Is Plotting To Kill You?


5 thoughts on “She’s Trying To Kill Me

  1. Good lord, sounds like you need to crate the delinquent kitty on the other side of the house at night for a couple of days or a week. I have to do that to my cat about every 6 months when he takes it into his head that he gets to torture me by waking me up at 4:00 am and other nocturnal nonsense. Cats are like kids, they will do whatever they think can get away with. If you let your kitties torture you in the night then who is the boss in that house? It ain’t you.

      • Yes, sometimes he does howl, the first night, just like a child does if you’ve made the mistake of allowing them to sleep in your bed with you and are now trying to get them to sleep in their own bed.

        Then the next night he give me this flat eared look like he’s an abused cat that has been tortured and starved. He’s not, he’s the most spoiled cat on earth. However, he occasionally has to do time in the hole when he acts up.

        He’ll be good for a while, but if he starts bugging me at night, back in the crate he goes. His favorite trick is to start batting the window shades because he wants me to open them so he can look out. Not…gonna…happen, until I decide it’s time to get out the bed. The bread winner of the house is entitled to a good night’s sleep. I was not put on this earth to cater to the every whim of a cat, dog, child, man, bird…whatever. 🙂

  2. Pingback: Great Expectations | Empowered Grace

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