Friday, December 07, 2012

Hellbeast

That's Kinky's new name. It's either Hellbeast or The Little Orange Fucker and the latter takes too long to say.

In the past week, he has racked up these accomplishments:
  • Knocked my keys and glasses off the table twice, then played with the keys and knocked/pushed them under a bag on the floor so that I couldn't find them in the morning when I was trying to get to work.
  • Chewed up two of my morning supplements that I left on the counter when I took the dogs out for a pee (he left one of them on the carpet in an explosion of white powder; I never did find the gel capsule the powder was in).
  • Consumed a rather large holiday dog treat brought all the way from the UK by my friend PM; I had left it on the counter in a bag while taking the dogs out for a quick pee.
  • Knocked Tsingy's bottle of Metacam on the floor, along with the syringe applicator, from the kitchen counter while I was taking the dogs out for a pee; I later found half the syringe in Azza's mouth, the plunger shoved nearly a foot under the carpet (I stepped on it, ow!), and the bottle of pain medicine in the closet where I keep the dog and cat food.
  • Licked up about 1/4 cup of steaming dog meatloaf pulled right out of the oven when I left the pans on the stove top to cool; I hope he burned his mouth, the little orange fucker.
  • Bit Upul on the leg when he dared to give Tsingy a treat first.
  • Repeatedly bullied Tsingy by chasing her every time she left her room to get a drink or tried to be sociable.
  • And finally, consumed a goodly part of my new flip flops, the THIRD pair that he has eaten (the first two were so badly eaten that I had to toss them).



I swear to dog, I will never get another orange cat again. The hellbeast has soured me on them forever.

I totally know what you are thinking: never leave anything out in the kitchen. I now have a printed message in an emphatic font pasted to my door reminding me of this every time I leave.

In case you were wondering, he sleeps next to me every night, often curled up under the covers with just his head poking out. Unless he's otherwise occupied eating flip flops. Little orange fucker.


3 comments:

BC Insanity said...

... aaaahh, you forgot Bix ...
he thinks pulling thumb drives out of the laptop is best fun. Or emptying the bowl of lids and stuff on the counter. Or scattering the mail ...
Or messing up the bed, yes, the covers. I used to accuse Grommit, until I caught the tabby in the act.
Maybe it's a tabby thing


Just call the hellbeast L.O.F

Anonymous said...

I hate cats. You can't even get any satisfaction by hollering at them. They either skitter off or ignore you. At least the dogs will seem to act contrite.

payingattention said...

Amazing! I have lived with two of the best orange male tabbies in the world, and have never thought of them as anything but pussycats. I'll put my bitchy black and tuxedo females up against TLOF any day. That being said, the old girl is over 14, living with failing kidneys, and a total human food monster, but can still pull a bat down from 8'-9'up.