Apparently the internet loves cats.
I am a dog person, but the videos are funny so I could live with a cat. This summer my sister is out of town but she had to leave her cats, at home, with me. I will never get a cat, for I have come to the conclusion cats are master torturers.
Until last night, the cats went to my mother's room and apparently pestered her; I did not notice because I closed my door and they could not get to me. My mother finally broke under their abuse and asked me to let them sleep *cough* torture *cough* with me last night so she could have good night's rest. I, being the chivalrous son I am, allowed her this respite from these demons. So here it is, the story the cats do not want you to hear.
It was about one o'clock at night when I felt the first brush of fur on my flesh and I knew right then that I would not be sleeping any time soon. Fortunately for me one of my sisters' cats, Nala, is a slightly older cat that apparently finds me repulsive and will not bother me; but her kitten, Amatta, is a true monster. The first thing Amatta does is lay on my side while I was laying on my side so I felt like I should not move - for worry of waking the beast. Fortunately, she did not stay there long, for her signature abuse was about to happen.
As Amatta moved off my side I re-positioned with my arm under two pillows, my head on top, laying on my side more comfortably. It was here the worst happened. I unintentionally created a crevice the right size for two feline paws and a head. She stuck her head under jaw and started purring, tickling my chest with her whiskers. While the whiskers were awful, her paws had a true magical abuse to them. Amatta stuck those fiendish feet of hers into my armpit and started kneading. I tried to hold out and prayed to God that she would simply stop; she never did. I would turn over and she would slide right back that glorious and evil spot she had found in the natural shape of my sleeping pattern. Later she lessened her evil for quicker, more disruptive behaviors. Amatta would crawl in front of my face, but it was dark so I could barely tell she was there till she would tickle my arm or a check with her whiskers and I breathed her breath. I flinched, realized what happened and then my resolve was reinforced.
Finally after and hour or so torture I finally stood up for myself, I would grab the fiend by the scruff and put her a few feet away every time she got too close. Eventually Amatta's tortures would end that night; she left me alone finally for 15 to 20 minutes and was able to sleep. I slept like a rock so if she came back in I did not know it until early morning when the house started waking up.
This is why I will not get a cat that loves me, for their love is abuse.
