Bunny-kicking Bitey-cat

This is how it starts.

Odin is a cat. In the evil sense. He likes to toy with my emotions and I believe that he enjoys every minute of it. In the last few months he has formed a new ritual.

It involves becoming “purry-cat” at around 9pm every night and slithering onto my lap in a warm ball of utter devotion. He snuggles into me, purring and giving me that look (ex: The Look of Love). I pet him, coo sweet nothings into his velvet ears, and wonder when my heart will explode with adoration for him. It’s all wonderful and magical and precious until my fingertips push some invisible button that connects to the hateful part of his brain. The location of this button varies. One night it could be on his head, another his side. I never know until I hit it and then all hell breaks loose.

As soon as I touch the button of hate, Odin’s back feet start kicking like a bunny. Flinging my hand away and puncturing my skin with his death-claws. Unfortunately, Odin ensures that by laying across my body I am in a vulnerable position. I wait until he goes back to sleep then tentatively place my arm back down so that I don’t have to continue holding it above my head. Every so gently, so that I don’t disturb nap 32 of the day. He eyes me warily, almost hatefully enough that I can imagine a crease between his eyes. His tail ticks against me and I feel the fear in me bubble up over and around my spine like tiny spiders crawling against my skin. Then he attacks. He grabs my arm in a tiny vice grip of claws and gnaws on my fingers. Pincer-like teeth pricking my fingers like a porcupine. Of course this is not enough for Odin. He is only just getting started. He then combines all of his attacks into one. Bunny-kicking and biting while gripping onto my arm like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling over the edge of an abyss. I take it, because to move would mean to have his embedded claws slice through my palm like a knife through butter. He goes on for awhile, as I wince in pain, and then stops abruptly. He leaps off of me as if I were covered in something disgusting and runs off down the hall. Apparently satisfied.

The unfortunate thing is that this happens just about every night. And I fall for the purry-cat face every time.

You know, if you spell gullible backwards it sounds like sandwich? ;)

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37 thoughts on “Bunny-kicking Bitey-cat

  1. Oh I SOOOOOOOOO feel your pain (literally). Sammy can be the dearest, sweetest, cuddliest boy with eyes closed in ecstasy and then WHAMMO – like a lightswitch – the skin ripping/slicing, evil-eye hate machine takes over. Fortunately for us (and the local blood bank) these little fits don’t last but a minute or less….then it’s back to adorable/perfect cat. Perhaps it’s schizophrenia of the feline kind???? 😀

    Pam (Sammy’s Mom)

    • I like to believe they have secret hate buttons that change locations. That way I can still try to believe that Odin is a sweet little angel instead of a demon cat, lol.

  2. My hubby had a cat when we first got together that did the same thing. Donkey would be all nice and then decide that you are prey or your arm was at least. The hubby said it was his way of playing while I just tried to avoid getting scratched. I’m just glad he didn’t teach Boomer that trick… could you imagine an 80 lb. lab pulling that stunt?

  3. My mom had a cat who for the most part was good, but he had a spot or ” hate button” as you said, that once you touched it he would come after you, not immediately, he would wait for you to move and then attack, I still have a little mark on my calf, I’ll remember him forever lol

  4. When I was about 12, my sister brought home a stray kitten that she had found. We named him Charlie, and he basically became my cat. I loved him, and we played all the time. When my sister would leave on Sunday nights to go back to college, he would turn into a ferocious, clawing, attack monster. He would leap from the ground and go for my face. I would literally have to throw him multiple times until he would leave me alone. Then a couple of hours later, he would come back and snuggle up, and we were friends again…until next Sunday!

  5. ummmm….ahhh…my comment may not be appreciated, but I was accused of having some kind’a ‘hate’ button in the shelter…and it was only my terror and fear of humans..and of being out of control and of being vulnerable. We cats, do not experience the human behavior known as “hate”. We are either terrified, hurting, ill, hungry or wanting to feel safe. We don’t know ‘hate’. I have no answer for you about Odin’s behavior, but I do know that he does not “hate” you…something else is happening to/for him. I am sending him my healing purrrrrrs and paw pats….Savannah

    • I believe sometimes my writing is too descriptive. His behavior is more like play than hate. He wakes, something makes him want to play, he plays like he would with a feather toy (except it’s my arm), then streaks away with a case of the “zoomies”. It’s a game to him that he seems to enjoy. I just lack appreciation for it.

  6. Ouch! We could almost feel the pain while reading this. Our Pooh was a lot like that when she first came to live with us only she bit more than using her claws. I learned to recognize the look in her eye just before the attack and would put her down and tell her ‘no’. After about 3 years she stopped most of the attacks. Once in awhile she will still bite or dig claws in but not often. Our Snookums bunny kicks and digs her claws in if we touch her tummy with our hands. She will let us brush her tummy though. I hope your Odin will stop doing this eventually. Hugs and nose kisses

    • It seems like it’s a fairly common thing for cats to do! Odin loves attention and I think he just gets playful after sleeping all day long. I may start wearing work gloves when he gets like that though! Hahaha.

  7. Haha, cats, eh?! I used to have a cat but the attacks got too much, nowadays I prefer to stick with my slobbering (sticks like glue), licking, stinky bum, moulting mutts, bless ’em! 😉

  8. Ooooo…ouch! I used to be a cat person; got my cat, Misty, when I was 6 yrs old and he lived until I finished college! Just before that, however, we got the psycho, chocolate-point Siamese “Princess”…she was purring while I held her, talking to my mom through a closed bathroom door…then I put her down and she made an awful, evil meow and jumped up at me, going for the jugular!! I screamed at her and chased her down the staircases of our house, skipping a step at a time, yelling to my younger brother, “I’m gonna kill that evil cat of yours!”…man, was I made…after that, she never did anything evil…would purr loudly and run towards me down the driveway when I came home from school 😉 (Now I own and totally love dogs..non-shedding cause of my allergies)(Willow’s mom)

  9. My Siamese, Walter, did that as well. He’d get himself nice and comfy, lying on my chest, with his face tucked under my chin. We would fall asleep like that every night, except for that one night when he lifted his chin slowly, looking at me in what I now realise was a calculating way, and quick as a very quick thing, snapped his jaws down on my lip. And held on. I won’t describe what happened next, but let’s just say I’ve got a lovely crescent scar which has faded to a pale pink 35 years later.
    Walter lived a long and happy life attacking us, our dogs, the neighbours…we adored him.
    Thanks for your post, it brought back many (traumatic) memories!
    Wendy

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