Most of my regular readers know that hubby and I share our house with a prolific serial killer. She’s a ruthless, indiscriminate and sadistic destroyer of lives and animal families. Her name is Katja aka Killer Pussy! We have learned to live with the carnage, the guilt and the shame. Hiding corpses, cleaning up crime scenes and the occasional lies we have to tell our neighbors about not having seen their missing birds, bunnies or small dogs have all become part of our daily lives. Even though the “missing posters” haunts us and we are fast are running out of places to hide, bury and dump the bodies, never before had it crossed my mind that our innocent little ball of fur might be suffering from a behavioral problem. Well, that was until recently…
This year killer pussy is turning two. Being all cute and cuddly she crawled into our hearts from the first day we brought her home. But under all that cuteness hides a terrible monster. Even as a kitten she exhibited signs of being an extraordinarily talented hunter. She made her first kill at four months old. She started off small with flies, moths, baby lizards and then small birds. At six months old she caught, tortured and killed her first adult bird and with that massacre her blood lust started.
For the last two years it has not been uncommon waking up in the morning to a dining and living room looking like the Manson clan had a slaughter party in it. During the last two years I have innumerable times unsuspectingly stepped in pools of blood and/or on disemboweled birds, mice and, most recently, fish. It’s not the best way to wake up and nor is it conducive to a good morning appetite. You can’t exactly go from cleaning up blood, innards, feathers and severed heads to having a cup of coffee and a bagel for breakfast all in an hour of each other.
Recently killer pussy decided to broaden her killing repertoire to include aquatic animals as well. You see a couple of months ago hubby and I bought and installed a pond in our backyard. It was one of those rare butch moments we occasionally have. The initial idea for the pond was that my frog, which I obtained in a rather suspect manner (illegally), could have a place to breed. The frog ignored the pond like the Pope ignores gay marriage. So we decided to buy some water plants and fish to make it pretty. It was a good and aesthetically pleasing idea at the time.
Two months past and killer pussy showed little interest in the pond or its inhabitants. At first we had about eight fish living in the pond and then one Saturday afternoon we had a tragic pond cleaning accident which killed them all. The pond of tranquility turned into the pond of horrors not unlike the holocaust.
With the fish dying, one after each other, floating to the surface killer pussy started seeing the pond in a whole new light. Perhaps she never noticed the fish before, or maybe they just seemed too boring to peak her interest. However, with the unintentional extermination that occurred she now knew the pond was once teeming with life and she would bide her time and strike once life was restored.
The cleaning accident was a chemical one, and we had to wait a week before we could again introduce other fish to the pond. When we received the all clear eight new fish were released. For a brief few weeks tranquility was restored and all was well. Then one morning while feeding the fish I noticed their behavior had changed. They seemed nervous, scared and refused to come to the surface to eat. Then I noticed that one of the water plants was almost completely destroyed. Killer pussy had taken up fishing and four fish were confirmed to be missing!
Still in denial that killer pussy had killed half the pond’s population, I wanted to believe the fish were taken by birds. Then we woke up one morning horrified to find a pool of blood and scales with one fish head on the dining room table. It was a fish head that I recognized; it was one of our pond fish. It was like a scene out of the Godfather except it wasn’t a horse’s head and it wasn’t in our bed!
Still semi asleep I tried to reprimand killer pussy. However, midway through the reprimand she gave me that big eyed “but you love me” look and I was instantly manipulated into killer pussy’s spell of submission and the reprimand ended in a cuddle. As this was happening hubby stood watching my bad parenting and obvious weakened defenses that were no match for killer pussy’s charm.
When he finally had enough he took her to the pond, gave her a proper reprimand and as further punishment banished her from the normal morning routine withholding her favorite breakfast catnip cookie, which she loves. Shocked that she received her first hiding ever and enraged that we dared to withhold her only earthly decadent pleasure she proceeded to throw an epic tantrum.
Properly pissed off, killer pussy made her way to the pond determined to kill every last living thing in there. I knew she was angry but I underestimated her determination to make her point. One hell of a raucous broke out in the backyard. I could hear water splashing, rocks falling and our other three cats moaning. As I made my way to the backyard I was not prepared for what I was about find.
I saw killer pussy wet and neck deep in the pond, all the water plants were uprooted and our other cats hiding in the foliage audibly trying to convince enraged killer pussy to stop the madness. Evidently killer pussy decided that seeing as she got a hiding already and was deprived of a cookie she might as well finish what she started and she almost did. The other three fish survived, but they were not unscaved. I never thought fish could be emotionally traumatized and could suffer from post traumatic stress disorder but our fish now do.
The pond has since been covered with netting, the fish sometimes refuse to eat and the pond of tranquility has now become to pond of imminent terror. Every so often killer pussy will still sit on the edge of the pond terrifying the fish while trying to locate a weakness in its defenses and I am sure one day she will find one.
For now the fish are stressed but safe. Having developed a taste for cold blooded animals and the fish just out of reach, killer pussy has now focused her attention on the next best thing – frogs. One of my frog’s offspring got murdered the other day and killer pussy hissed and growled at me as I tried to save it. As killer pussy demonically warned me to leave her alone while she murdered the frog, I did momentarily consider buying her a muzzle, like the one Hannibal Lecter had, but then realized I would have to put it on her and decided against it. After all, I don’t need the drama or the scars.
Whether killer pussy is suffering from a behavioral problem or if killing is just in her nature and something she does really well, I do not know. But one thing I do know is the killing is not going to stop any time soon and no cat psychologist in the world will be able to convince her to stop either. So we will continue hiding corpses, cleaning up crime scenes and lie to our neighbors in the hope that one day she may just stop.
Till next time.