Pet Trauma

They look so very sweet. But they are out of control. This one in particular.

*cue Damien music*

Yes, the one that bears more than a passing resemblance to Hitler – Kitler as he was politically incorrectly termed until ‘Bobby’ stuck.

He has destroyed whole rooms. He has broken the bottom of the bed AND the sofa. He has peed on Wes while he sleeps. He has clawed Wes’ back and meowed incessantly while we drove at 70 mph down the interstate, and his reign of terror on the fish continues unabated.

I had 2 dempseys. I now have 1.

I had three Balas… I now have 2. While one seems to grow from strength to strength the other is permanently scarred. A slight, withered thing with half a tail from all the stress.

He teemed up with his brother got into the fish food and ate every last piece.

Together they have worked out how to unplug the fishes heaters.

And tonight, tonight, just to f*ck with us, Bobby came into the front room, sat with his back to us, and licked the wall over and over again. Then walked out.

Out. Of. Control.

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One thought on “Pet Trauma

  1. Pingback: More cat tales. « Lekki Wood's Blog

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