Cats are generally deemed to be plotting the early demise of their owners. I don’t think they have it well thought-through because procuring a new owner might present a problem. It doesn’t make sense for the cat to dispose of the human, unless the cat wants to feast on the dead body. But cats don’t make sense. Neither does mine, however, she is not be underestimated. She doesn’t simply plot to murder me, she also actually acts on her murderous intentions. Her schemes for getting rid of me are extremely clever. You’d never expect that, especially if you believe that your cat is dumb.
Method #1: Death by Starvation
I avoid conflicts at all costs and my cat knows it. Anytime I’m preparing myself a meal, the cat acts like a drama queen. She makes as if she wants my veggies, tofu or soy. She doesn’t actually want any of these things. The only thing she eats is dry food and the gravy from meat pouches. Not the meat, she chose to be vegan. So, I always prepare food with the cat meowing like I’m murdering her and making me feel guilty. The cat places her hopes in my inclination to avoid guilt and conflict and expects me to stop making myself meals, hence dying of starvation.
Method #2: Death by Stroke
My cat scares the shit out of me. That’s her thing. Not only does she creep on me, disappears and then reappears at a spot where she absolutely couldn’t have got herself in the split second that it takes. She also haunts me when I sleep. She recently undertook to climb on the cushions next to my pillow in bed. So when I wake up, she’s hovering over my face, very close and very big. Her other move is to position herself at my nightstand and wait for me to turn my head when I’m reaching for my phone. It’s pretty scary to look up the first thing in the morning and see the cat triumphantly towering above me.
Method #3: Death by Assault
My cat is a living assault weapon. It’s not just the usual love bites and scratches which I incur when I show as little sense as to touch her when she’s in play mode. Cats have a somewhat violent idea of what constitutes play. When my cat has the crazies, she runs around like crazy (hence crazies), jumps like a bunny and basically walks on walls and the ceiling. She also waits in ambush behind the fridge for me to walk by and then jumps at me. This is normally okay because she bounces off, but the other day she hit my shin. The impact was surprisingly painful. I guess she graduated to aggravated assault.