She looks SOOOOOO cute, doesn't she? She's a ticking time bomb, but she hides it well. We adopted her in January 2007, about a week before the last of the old cats died. Unfortunately, the past year has been a journey of discovering how abused this poor sweet looking thing must have been before she was placed in our care. She hates me. She comes over to me, paws my legs, and asks me to allow her on my lap. She curls up and purrs. And then, for no reason, she will either growl and bite me, swat at my face with her front paws, or just growl and go bonkers, all teeth and claws, until she can jump away. If one of the dogs is nearby, she will then attack the poor dog, biting their legs like in danger of her life, while the poor dog turns and looks at me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
Her real nature comes out - as she sees us taking her picture while she lurks in wait inside a package of bottle water in a corner of the kitchen.
In the past year, she has mellowed a bit. She never goes after the kids. She lets the younger one carry her around the house, and climbs up into her top bunk to sleep at night. She now climbs on my lap when she's hungry or thirsty and does not immediately attack me - heck, this morning, she actually curled up and went to sleep instead of biting me - but she's still the most unpredictable animal I have ever had. Ginger, the big dog, is her archenemy, although Ginger doesn't seem to know it, and takes her attacks as a stunning surprise every time. Ginger likes cats, used to lick one of them until her head was soggy and she got bored and walked away, but now comes immediately over to my desk when Joelle starts to growl, as if she's going to fend off the attack personally.
More on the Cat from Hell, later.
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