My Cat the Bully

There's no denying it - my cat is a bully, and I am his victim.

The first time we met, he tricked me. He reached out from his cage and wrapped his soft front paws around my neck and shoulders and nuzzled and purred. There was no evidence of malice in his demeanor. His right eye was swollen and stitched closed, and his fuzzy biscuit head sat pathetically inside one of those plastic conical devices fastened to his neck.

A short time later, he was ours.

We signed the paperwork, and before he'd been packed into his carrier, he began to act out. He scratched and bit at random. We thought it might be the stress of being moved. When we got him home and carved out a large, private space for him, he began acting out again. We figured it was a phase.

Years have gone by and it is clear that he is a bad seed.  Despite this, he's in many ways my favorite of our three cats.

Some of his antics include:

He lies perfectly still, on his back, his front paws curled up and over, and his hind legs splayed wide open.  he stares lovingly and contentedly at me.  I fall for this often. It's a trap. I call it the Venus Fly Cat. I touch the impossibly soft fur of his underbelly, and all four limbs close on my hand. If I am lucky, I come away with just a few bloody scratches.

If I walk past him in Venus Fly Cat position, I must tiptoe. Otherwise, he chases me across the house until he catches me, falling down around my pant legs, jaws clamping down ceaselessly around my ankles, kind legs kicking me for good measure.

The whole time he chases me, his tail is up,the happy, contented, detached disposition a psychopath must feel before lunging in for the kill.  He loves the hunt, especially when the prize is human flesh.  He gets at least a pound a week.

Sometimes, as I am sitting on the couch, he sneaks up behind me and starts biting at my hair and scalp.  All I have as a warning is the stuffy nosed breathing of a cat who can't help himself and is, excitedly, about to make a play for some brains. Zombie cat.

At night, when all is still and the lights are out, he jumps up on the bed and begins suckling the blanket. Yes - he sticks the blanket in his mouth and begins a vibratory dance with the blanket still in his mouth. I consider this a nocturnal victory lap for a cat who was torn from his mother far too soon. He's not quite right in the head, but these rituals are a way for him to get right by his past.

If you get a fluff attack, keep in mind that there is risk and reward. Have you had the fluff attack described to you?  He approaches, lays across one's upper chest and buries his face in their cheek and neck, purring all the while. It seems like he is keeping his cold nose warm. He pauses occasionally to lick the human's face. Keep in mind though, that at any time during the fluff attack, he can and will turn on you. There will be no warning. One moment, you hear purring and the next, your nose is gushing blood and your cheek is mottled with bite marks.

Proceed at your own risk with . Also, keep in mind that any cat laying across your upper chest is, in fact, trying to dominate you.

Despite his propensity for biting and his generally vicious nature, he cries for me when I leave the room. His disposition is that of the abandoned baby, so my soft heart keep me coming back for more. I patch my wounds, wait for the scars to heal, and come at him again and again. And I will do this for as long as he needs me. Such is the way of a victim whose bully exercises total control over his life.


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