My Side Of the Story

Once you bite a human, you’re marked for life. Once you attack a human, you are cursed to go to hell. Thus my name, Diablo.

I am a sweetheart of a kitty. Full of spunk. No fear. That happens when you’re an office cat. High volume of people in your life, you get use to the attention and the crazy things people do. Add to that I was carted back and forth from office to house almost every night and I got use to most things, including the typical rural Tennessee road block complete with German Sheppard. I’d growl at those dogs and believe it or not, they didn’t know what to think. They’d sniff around the Jeep while I prowled window to window making my presence clearly known. I can be tough when I got sheet metal and glass between me and Fido.

Anyway, you could say I was a bit concerned with defending my territory. At the office, there was Phoenix and at the house, just me. I considered both my place.

The house sat on a lake, surrounded by deep forests. Quiet, secluded. Goddess liked the privacy as much as I did. On sultry summer nights, she’d go to bed stark naked. (I'll keep this rate PG) Some nights it was dead still, except for the peepers carrying on in the reeds. What little breeze the lake offered was captured in the thick pine boughs. She’d stretch out under the circulating ceiling. Nobody around but the moon. From the opened windows I kept watch over anything that lurked in the inky shadows. Mostly stupid possum, a few cantankerous raccoons and lots of squirrels. The squirrels drove me crazy.

Every once in a while another cat would come prowl around, never with any good intentions. Whenever that happened, I’d go nuts. First I’d get a few deep growls to rumble up from the depth of hell. Very primal. Sounds most house cats don’t even make. The fur on my nape would bristle. A porcupine couldn’t even imitate this. I’d hunker down low, cocked and loaded. My eyes widened like a pair of headlights on a rainy dark night. I could feel my heart pound deep inside my ribs and my breathing evolved into snorts, similar to a feral pig.

I confess, I’d flip out. And the Goddess knew it. I wasn’t Diablo anymore, but a possessed demon. The domesticated house cat vanished.

One night a prowling intruder of the feline type came snooping around the deck. Goddess heard me getting all worked up. Try as she might to calm me down I wasn’t having any of it. She spotted the intruder on the deck and made an attempt to scare him off. She leaned over to the window and she growled.

I went over the edge, berserk. Mind you she is naked as a jaybird. I leapt up and sank all four canines into her ass, while latching on to the back of her thigh with my front claws. The back two feet kicking away at the flesh. All 110 pounds of her came crashing to the floor. This is how a lion brings down a water buffalo. A vicious attack.

The next thing I remember we were eye-ball to eye-ball. She was as shocked as I was confused. I could tell she was scared. I could see it in her eyes. The fear, but she remained calm, not provoking another attack. This would have been even worse because like I said we were face to face. Got to give her credit for keeping her wits as she faced down a demonic furball.

I growled and snorted. Blood was everywhere. Yet she maintained her composure. No panic. Good thing, because any sudden movement or sound would have netted another assault.

She spoke soothingly while she inched slowly away. Once out of immediate range of tooth and fang she got up. Never stopped talking and never took her eyes off me, but never looked me directly in the eyes either. All the while I’m guarded, snarling and snorting. She ended up locked in the bedroom. I crouched down at the door where I watched her watch me under the door. No threshold. A few hours drifted by and I came out of my trance, as lovable as my old self.

I’ve done this a few times. I’ve gone to the point of actually stalking her with the same fierce attitude. Once she had to jump up on the kitchen counters to escape. Could be why she joined the Peace Corps and ran away for two years.

No vet or cat expert has an explanation. Bad kitty trip. And yet, she still loves me. That’s why I got to get to Hawaii.