My Cat Hates Me!

You may or may not know, that as well as our Little Orange Dog, we also have a little black and white cat, named Sparkle. Sparkle is a tiny cat (she weighs around 3.5kg) and is very timid. She loves to be brushed and when her stomach tells her it's feeding time, is a very vocal little cat. She's also a little confused. I'm not entirely convinced that she knows she is a cat. Let me explain a little more.

Sparkle has never caught anything. Many years ago, when we still had her big brother (he went missing, presumed run over) a bird flew into the living room window. I'm not sure if it was just a bit of a stupid bird, or if it was a very unhappy bird, but sadly it didn't survive it's head on with the double glazing. I forgot all about the bird until I went out and there it was lying dead on the patio, poor wee thing. Anyway, the point is, my daft feline had gone out into the garden and come back in and both times walked straight past the dead bird. Her brother, upon his return from his daily wanderings discovered it immediately and, well that was that.

She has run in from the garden because a bird has frightened her and she only ever 'hunts' birds from the safety of the windowsill with the protection of a double glazed window. She really is an embarrassment to the feline world; thankfully, she has a very pretty face to make up for what she lacks in hunting skills.

So why do I think this cute little bundle of fluff hates me? Well, call me paranoid, but I am beginning to think that she is on a mission to kill me. Over the past week she has made two very well timed, but thankfully, failed attempts on my life. The first one would have been quite spectacular had it been successful. There I was, first thing in the morning, arms full of washing to put in the machine and just about to make my way downstairs. Sparkle seized her opportunity and just as I was stepping on to the first stair she tore down them, obviously hoping I would fly down headfirst (which I almost did). I have to hand it to her, her timing was spot on, but my balance was better, which was something of a miracle given it was only 7am.

Clearly disappointed she went back to the drawing board to formulate a new plan, clearly she is not just a pretty face. She spent quite a while biding her time, I can tell you. She lulled me into a false sense of security before striking again on Thursday.

This time, her plan was to trip me up in the kitchen, and I assume she had intended for me to knock myself out on the table or working top, because just as I was crossing the room, out she flew, straight under my feet! She was brazen too, she didn't care about witnesses to her potential crime, she really hates me, besides the girls found it hilarious that their pet had tried to kill me.

I'm not sure what I've done to make her despise me so much, though I suspect it may be rooted in jealously because she really doesn't like Max at all and can often be found glaring at him with a look of utter disgust on her face. Whatever, her reasons, I fear my days may well be numbered. Should I suddenly cease to post on the blog you will know that she has been successful.