Z had an Angry Cat phase, when she was about 4 months old, and her grumbling sounded like a gunny sack of angry cats.
But we got her exorcised of the Angry Cat (movie version), but she still has an affinity for cats.
Fortunately, she did not turn into a were-cat last night.
Let me explain.
One of Z’s favourite activity is looking for stray cats to pet.
Which can be a little risky. Cats can be so catty.
There is a cat outside Tim’s restaurant. We go there semi-regularly, and usually before we are done, Z wants to go out to look for the neighbourhood cats. The one outside the restaurant is a little unfriendly. I tried to touch it, and she batted my hand away.
To be fair though, the cat did it with her claws sheath. It was more of a “don’t touch me” rather than a “I’ll kill you!”
But I told Z that the cat didn’t want to play.
And that is what I do with all the new cats we meet. I would try to pet the cat (or ‘grab the pussy’ like Donald), and see how it reacts. Some move away. Some hiss and bat at my hands. These I tell Z, are unfriendly or they don’t want to play.
So it was that we met a new cat just last night, and as usual I tried grabbing the pussy (I mean, I petted the cat) and it seemed amenable. Even smelling Z’s hand when she offered it. Z laughed when the cat sniffed her hand.
Assured that the cat was friendly, I went to the minimart to pick up some groceries, leaving PL and Z with the cat.
A while later, PL brought Z into the minimart and told me the cat had turned angry and scratched Z’s hand and arm with her claws. Z was fine though and still wanted to go look for cats. I brought her to look for more cats (we found two, but they moved off when we approached), while PL got some antiseptic (Dettol) to clean the scratches. They were red, but not bleeding.
I told PL that those scratches might cause Z to turn into a were-cat. So if she turns into a were-cat that night, she might disembowel PL while she slept.
About an hour after Z fell asleep, I took here temperature. No fever. A good sign. If she were turning into a were-cat, she would be running a fever.
“How do you know? When did you become an expert on Were-cats?” Asked PL.
“I watched ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’.”
This morning, when I woke up, Pl and Z had gone. There was no blood. So I believe PL had brought Z to pre-school, as usual. Unless Z as a were-cat is a very clean killer. And ate every bit of PL.
But she is a small eater. So I doubt it.
Anyway, Z may have been a cat in a previous life. She has many Cat-like traits. First, she hates baths and water (being splashed on her) and she absolutely detests having her hair washed.
She also want privacy when she is pooping. She’s still in diapers, but when she needs to poop, she heads to a quiet corner in the room or the flat and stands there quietly. And if we peek at her she will tell us to leave her alone.
“I think she was a cat in a previous life,” I told PL.
“We’re Catholic. We don’t believe in past lives and reincarnation,” PL pointed out.
“Well, yeah. NOW we do,” I said quite reasonably. “But in her previous life she might not have been Catholic.”