A Cat by Any Other Name

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I have determined that my cat is trying to murder me. Either that or the ghost babies are behind it. Most of you know the stories as I post them on Facebook, but here is a chronological list to back me up. This does not have to do with Type 1 diabetes other than sometimes if my blood sugar is high I’ll wake in the middle of the night to use the bathroom (when blood is high, sugar tries to escape the body through urine), and upon my waking I occasionally see Binx sitting on my dresser staring at me… Creepy.

Scare Tactic #1 (Within the first month I had Binx):
I wake in the middle of the night hearing strange scraping noises. Is it ghost babies? A mouse? Murderers come to steal my precious gems? I look across the bed and see Annabelle, my first cat, sleeping soundly, oblivious to any evil doings. I listen carefully. Nothing… Wait… There it is again. Something is in the kitchen. I work up my nerves and head out. As I turn on a light and enter I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Thinking I am a nut and imagined it all I start to head back to bed when I hear it again. I look down and this is what I see…

I believe he was testing out my scarability tendencies for his future use.

Scare Tactic #2:
Almost every time I do dishes Binx will jump to the top of the cupboards and stare down at me as I scrub a dub dub the utensils. I’m not sure but he might be hiding electronics up there where he waits to catch me off guard and throw one down, electrocuting me.

Scare Tactic #3:

I come home from a long day of work and can’t find Binx anywhere. After searching high and low I freak out and start thinking he crawled in a hole somewhere and died (I can be overly dramatic.) I call my parents crying as I continue to tear apart me house looking for my poor, little, murdering fur baby. I go to the basement where I had already checked (twice) and notice that the lid to my washing machine is shut. I could have sworn I left it open after I did laundry the night before. Sure enough…

Scare Tactic #4:

This time he almost succeeded. Once again it is the middle of the night… I feel Binx pounce on the bed and continue on to the top shelf of my newly crafted headboard. I know I should force him down, but I’m too tired to bother. I fall back asleep only to be forcefully awoken when a vase falls on my head, followed by a ten pound Binx…straight on the cheek bones. It hurt like a mother trucker. Luckily, I did not develop a black eye

Scare Tactic #5:

I’m watching a scary show and at the climax of the scarieness..BOOM!!! I jump off the couch in a terror. Are the ghost babies back? Murderers come to steal my precious gems? Nope. Binx knocked over the trashcan in the kitchen. I just know he was crouched in a corner, rubbing his paws evilly together, waiting for the perfect moment to knock it over.

Where does he come up with all these plans for my death, you ask. He has a lair. In my basement. There is a particular corner that every time I go downstairs and to it he follows me closely, meowing and running back and forth between my feet trying to trip me. He doesn’t do that to me anywhere else, but that particular part of the basement. I don’t know what kind of things he does down there, but I’m sure it is bad news for me. He is probably hiding ghost babies down there and is waiting to release them on me.

Part of his lair. This is him in the rafters.

He is always hiding out in parts of the house waiting for attack.

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I mean, seriously, what did I ever do to him to make him desire my death so vehemently?

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