The gloves are off!!

It's one thing to mess with me. But mess with my cat and you're done for skank!

Yesterday, I was sitting on my fenced in patio, enjoying a lovely sunny Sunday. My cat, Alice, was relaxing with me while on a leash.

And then... Crack Whore's cat jumped on the fence. The cat, which is fittingly all black as though it emerged directly from hell, is allowed to roam free. She spends her days tormenting all the other pets in the neighbourhood, most of whom are on leashes. My cat was quite welcoming and friendly of Hell Cat. Hell Cat, on the other hand, starting hissing and spitting as though we'd invited her over and forgot to serve the caviar. Poor Alice had a fit and scared Hell Cat away.

It took several minutes to calm Alice down, but once again we were able to relax and enjoy our patio. Then Skank #2 came outside, while on the telephone, exercising her vast vocabulary: "you're f_ckin' kidding. No f-ckin' way!. Holy f-ck! I hope he f-ckin' cabbed it home. He coulda f-ckin' met me there." You get the idea. She's the type of person for whom the f-word is noun, verb, adverb, adjective and I'm sure she's even used it as a pronoun. After gracing us with her presence, she went back inside. And that's when her f-ckin' cat came back.

Hell Cat came and sat on the outside of my gate, right where Alice could see her but not reach her, little bugger. Alice bolted toward, and bolted so hard that she bent the metal clasp on her leash and broke free. Alice is in an indoor cat who's never been outside off leash. I FREAKED! I ran after Alice and thankfully was able to catch her. She'd chased Hell Cat clear across the park and across the creek. In short, Alice kicked Hell Cat's ass. I got to Alice just as she realized she didn't know where she was and was about to panic. F-ckin' Hell Cat.

That Crack Whore is goin' down. No one messes with my cats and gets away with it.