Cat Terrorizes Home

House pets are supposed to be enjoyable and comforting, but when I see a house cat I immediately think of how its claws are going to slice my eyeballs or my testicles.

Cats are one of the few things that trigger my fight-or-flight response. Not only are their claws dangerous weapons, but they are mischievous and sly, and they have a bad attitude. I wouldn't trust any human with these characteristics, let alone allow them to take residence in my home. I would have never married my wife if she ended every massage by clawing me like cats do.

Despite my fears, I decided to be a nice husband and get a cat for my wife for her birthday because she has always wanted one of these purring beasts. The cat we chose is black with piercing orange eyes that resemble a panther's. We believe he, Louis, is a mix of the popular Bombay breed.

Louis' acclimation into our home started off great. He stayed in the basement and I never had to deal with him, which is exactly what I wanted. When he first started to come around he was entertaining and likable. He and our dog would have showdowns, which usually entails 20 minutes of them staring at each other from a foot's distance until Louis would retreat back to the basement.

After a few weeks passed, Louis started coming upstairs more and more. He started getting comfortable and he started growing on me. Then his evil ways came out and he began terrorizing our home.

Louis lives a nocturnal life and he doesn't care about my sleep schedule at all. I often wake up to a crescendo of cat clamor, which I mistake immediately as someone breaking in with the intention to rape my wife. However, I lay awake for hours listening to a six pound cat throw chotckes off shelves, play with the microwave power cord, and break Christmas ornaments. His activities always lead to surprises in the morning.

One morning I walked into our living room and almost stepped on broken ornaments that he had strategically placed on the floor as if he were Kevin McCallister preparing for the Wet Bandits.

Another day, I couldn't find my wedding ring. I told my wife that the cat probably stole the piece of tungsten carbide that is supposed to symbolize our "circle of love." My wife said, "why would a cat steal your ring?" This is a reasonable response, but I know Louis is evil. Two weeks later, my wife was cleaning a pot that hosts a palm tree, which the cat had used as a tropical litter box. She found my ring buried in the urine drenched soil. Now, whenever something is missing around the house, I immediately search the potted plants that my cat seems to be using like pawn shops to dump his stolen goods.

Louis' rap sheet is long. He has claimed our basement couch by pissing on it daily. My dog eats his poop, which has caused her to lose popularity at our house. After a nice shit meal my dog's drool becomes a poo scented glue stick. Her halitosis smells like smashed poop on a daily basis. It's as if Louis calls our dog whenever he needs to poop and makes a direct deposit into her mouth.

Whether Louis is dumping in my dog's mouth, pissing on the couch, eating Ping-Pong balls, or haunting my dreams, it's like I'm living with a criminal who commits crimes solely against me.

This isn't helping my fear of cats despite the fact that people say that facing your fears is one of the best ways to get over a fear. I have now lived with one of my fears for months and I still tense up whenever he jumps on my lap. My ailurophobia continues. The next fear I will try to conquer is the artificial insemination of cows.