He should be locked up!

He should be locked up!

Timbit has been a part of our lives for almost 12 years now. We adopted him soon after we returned from our honeymoon. I knew the name I wanted, and went in search of a kitten that fit the name. He had a brother in the cage with him, and I almost got both of them. The other would have been called Munchkin. But because I’m allergic to cats, we decided on just one.

He was the sleepy one, but that was just a ploy to get adopted. Once inside the cardboard transportation box, he chewed his way out. As he grew, he learned to bust out of cat carrying cages, but ironically loves to sit in boxes.

Nosyneighbour had never had a cat before, and often confused cat language with dog language. For example, cats don’t wag their tails when they’re happy to see you. No, they’re flicking their tails because they’re either in hunt mode or pissed off with whatever you’re doing. He also played rough with him like he was a dog using his bare hands. Remember, I’m allergic. So bites and scratches make me swell up.

Well Timbit became a real biter. And a spoiled cat too. If you didn’t give him enough time and attention, he would hunt you down and attack. For me, it started when I joined the ski patrol. It was three months of at least two nights a week going out to training. Then when the snow came I took full advantage of the free skiing. We were living in the condo at the time. I was walking down the hallway when  Timbit came flying out of nowhere, ran up behind me and stuck his incisors into my buttocks. To make sure he had a firm grip, he was using his front paws to clench my upper thighs. It really hurt, and I was trying to pull him off, but he was  using those  front paws to hold on as tight as he could.

The bruise and pain lasted about a month. Nosyneighbour thought it was pretty funny. Until he started coaching rugby and wasn’t home that much. Then Timbit stalked him. I think that was the only time Nosyneighbour was attacked.

Since then, I’ve discovered the attack mode seems to be a tactic chosen mostly for women. Timbit loves to sit on stairs and try to block your way when you’re coming up from the basement. Sometimes he’ll howl and go sideways bushy.

Don’t get me wrong, I can play rough with him when I use the puppet. We’ve bought him several on our travels, but they always have to be “bite” tested in the store. We know he’s going to go for our fingers, so we play cat wrestling in the store before buying. I could handle Timbit biting me then because it’s all a part of play. Even if he bit me right after play, because then it could still be considered play. But oh no, Timbit just likes to attack me.

I really do love him when he’s cute and cuddly. But he’s either bi-polar or gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with either. After the last attack, which was particularly nasty, I learned that  Timbit had attacked our neighbour when she was over to feed the cat. So she definitely wasn’t interested in adopted this senior cat. I  couldn’t see anyone wanting a cat that can be so psycho. But I also couldn’t put down a cat that isn’t sick.

So I’ve come up with a plan. If he becomes a regular outdoor cat, he might have a run in with a vehicle or other animal. Then I wouldn’t feel at fault.  And just like his parents love to travel, he could see a bit more of the world before he kicks the bucket. He might even be able to hitch a ride on a transport truck from the Metro down the street.

While I work on convincing Nosyneighbour that this is a good thing, I’m secretly feeding him extra food. Last week it was bacon. I think he ate a strip and half in one morning. He loves it. The little piggy! Last night he had a few licks of my Rolo icecream bowl.

Okay, it’s all a bit tongue in cheek. The cat is happy that he’s getting extra food. And he’s liking me more because I’m the one giving it. If only I could figure out a way to make it look like feline suicide. Maybe the new blind cords?

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