Bruce and Hattie.
Don't be fooled. They may be fluffy and adorable but something is... off... about this situation at home. Bruce, well, he walks around like he's half drunk all the time and runs into walls while chasing after toys... but that guy has some stuff going on in his head that I don't want to know about.
And Hattie. Ohhhhh, Hattie. The mastermind. She may seem prim and proper. Some might even say she's cute - but let us not forget sista kitty was a stray for the first 5 weeks of her life and I imagine she saw some pretty crazy shit going down out there in the wild.It's not that I'm overly paranoid. I mean, things just started happening... gradually... and I'm finally starting to put two and two together.
At first, it was just tiny little accidents, here and there... Bruce darting out in front of me in the hallway or rubbing against my leg and 'accidentally' tripping me.
Or waking up in the middle of the night with Bruce's butt pressed up over my face, ready to suffocate me.
And it's always Bruce doing the dirty work while Hattie just chills in the background. That's how I know Hattie's running the show. Bruce is too dumb to come up with a plan to murder me on his own. Hattie must be pulling the strings. A puppet master, making Bruce do all the dirty work for her.
My suspicion grew.It was the sequence of events last Saturday, though, that confirmed my fear. I was just trying to get a little laundry done when they almost had me.
A visit to the ER and 9 stitches later, the doctor looked at me with a strange expression on his face when he tried to get to the bottom of what happened.
Doctor: You know, Kate, you can tell me what really happened. There's no need to lie and protect anyone here. No one has the right to hurt you.
Kate: What do you mean 'protect anyone'??? I told you what happened. My cats are trying to kill me. They've tripped me, tried smothering me and now are dropping irons on my head.
Doctor: Well, now miss, you wouldn't believe the stories we hear here all the time... someone knocking their face on a doorknob... another accidentally running into a corner...
Kate: Dude. I told you. It's the kittens. They look sweet and innocent, sure, but they've got it in for me. Well, at least Hattie does for some reason. I think she over heard me talking to the vet about getting her declawed or something. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Bruce is just retarded and easily manipulated. Hattie's probably offering him kitty sex on the side or something. What a hussy. There's some serious Pinky and the Brain stuff going on here...
Doctor: Ma'am, if you don't want to tell me what really happened, that's fine. But I'm just going to leave this informational brochure here on your bedside, should you choose to admit the truth to yourself and find help.
Kate: *sighs* Okay, thanks.
So anyway, just let it be known now: If you read this and I'm gone, don't put it past those little fur balls. I've probably been hacked into little pieces and buried in the litter box - ironically enough, the same one I scoop crap out of for those little rats.