That time my cat nearly got stabbed.

I’m not joking. My cat did almost get stabbed.

Not recently, years ago.

He’s always been a little nutty, and yowls and mutters to himself. I’m thinking kitty dementia, because he’s old as dirt and probably gonna outlive us all.

Okay. So at the time, my brother and I were still in school, and Monday nights we were with our dad. My mom was doing an MBA class that met on Mondays, and her cousin, who was living with us then was home alone.

Now, I’m not saying it was a dark and stormy night, but let’s be real, Ohio in fall, it probably was. My mom’s cousin was sitting in the family room watching TV, when she heard the basement door rattling, and muttering coming from behind the door. She is reasonably petite, as the women in my mother’s family tend to be, but badass, as the women in this family also tend to be, and just a little reckless. So instead of leaving out the garage door, the back door, or even the front door (all of which stood between her and the rattling basement door) and going to a neighbor’s house where there was no [presumed] intruder, she grabbed her cell phone in one hand and a large knife in the other, and proceeded to throw open the basement door to confront this threat.

Look at this smug bastard demanding belly rubs.
Look at this smug bastard demanding belly rubs.

It meowed.

The cleaning lady had been there that morning, and forgot to let the cat out of the basement when she left, and the cat apparently took great offence.

And almost got stabbed for it.


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