I've been drugged

I think Tim is a witch. This is day two of the possession curse. Every month or so, he rustles up some weird incantation to possess me. It is not avra-ka-davra nonsense, but something much more effective. Yesterday, I started feeling hot, so I go to bathe myself and what happens, I get nauseous, I feel like some thing is stepping on my bladder. I'm a fairly cleanly cat, but I can barely hold back sprinkling all over the place as I scuttle to my porta-stinky box. He's askin' for it, that Tim. Maybe I'll sprinkle on his face while he sleeps...there's an idea.

But I was not raised to be so uncivilized. It just wouldn't be proper and I'd end up getting tossed into The Falls where I'd be violated from head to claw by both humans.

The Falls, in my opinion, is Tim's torture chamber. I sit on the back of the humans stinky-seat in the mornings guarding the great wall that separates the Falls from the rest of the stinky room. The humans quite enjoy the Falls, surprisingly. They go into it at least once a day. I suspect they assumed that I would like it too. But not this cat. I could drown in there, or worse. Who knows what happens to cats under the Falls? If Tim is a witch, he's probably cursed it to eat away at my fur or make my whiskers melt off.

Every now and then the humans force me into the Falls when poop sticks to my tail. They are so impatient. They should know I'll get to cleaning it off eventually. Sheesh. If they had long fur, they'd understand. Amy is usually there to supervise Tim washing the poop off, so I'm safe from his dark magic. I'm beginning to think Tim and Amy are part of a cult or something, ritually cleansing my fur from the contamination of the oh holy apartment. It's just dust.

***

I've been demonized. I can't stop from rolling on my back and rubbing on things. I need to be rubbed so bad! So of course I find myself sinking to the level of a human and brush my body against their legs -- petting them...ewww...How humiliating! The worst of it is that it's so uncomfortable that I have to 'yeowwwl.'

Something must be done and if Amy is going to sit back and let it happen, I'll have to formulate a plan to take this Tim out. This is my house, and it's time he understood that.

I've got it! When he shows up tonight I'll sink to his level, meow, look pitiful and stupid, then while he sleeps I will scratch a hole in that material that he covers his body with. Then, when he 'yeowwwls' I'll approach him, look pitiful, and sink my claws into his shin. That'll show him!

As night approached, everything went according to plan. He fell for my act. Idiot. I gnawed at that material for an hour I think until it was big enough for me to walk through. Ha. It's his turn to be uncomfortable.

Day approached, but Rascal did not wake up to see Tim's reaction. Oh No! She thought. She walked to the kitchen and saw that food was already out for her. He had gone for the day. She slunk down, rolled on the floor and yeowwwled with disappointment.

In the distance she heard thunks (from someone's feet) coming up the stairs in the hall. Then a key fought it's way into the door and in stepped Tim furious about something. Rascal yeowwwled in triumph as her plan had worked, but differently than she had originally planned.

If I act stupid, he'll feel more comfortable. Closer, closer...NOW! I lunged onto his foot and then clung all four paws into his leg, deep enough to hold on. He shrieked, much higher pitched than usual, like the Amy human. I had won. So I retracted my claws briskly and raced under the human sleeping thing, too low for that Tim to get me. He is fat afterall, thank the feline gods.

Amy came racing out of the human stinky room laughing. She appreciated my effort and success. Tim reddened in a rage yelling about there being "a hole in his crotch" while Amy defended me, saying that "he had underwear on." Tim turned redder. Success is worth a thousand bowls of milk. Oh, how satisfying. He at last, after a long pause, said something about "not wearing underwear." Amy laughed so hard she fell over.

I'm better than I thought. He'll never bewitch me again, the lug, or I'll tear more holes in his "pant crotch."

Great Furballs! I'm hot again. Amy sympathizes and tells me I'm "in heat," but I know it's Tim and deep down I know she knows it. Once she find his wand or crystal ball, or whatever object he uses to conjure his magic, I'll be there to distract him. He can't resist me when I'm pitiful and helpless. Male cats are dumb enough, but male humans are stupidly predictable.