Asshole, the Ninja Cat

No, that’s not really her name but whenever she bites me and I am not expecting it, I admit, I usually call her Asshole. I love this cat. I hate this cat. I will be devastated when her time comes and she leaves for Rainbow Bridge someday. For the very first time yesterday, I gave her oral medication before a visit to the vet. My little cat friend is closing in on being an ancient beast of fifteen. She needed some dental attention and is too old to put under anesthesia. I stood in the exam room out of the way as the Vet scraped the plaque off my cat’s teeth. As my cat was under the influence of some pretty good tranquilizers she didn’t struggle much and I am told felt no pain. Well, I felt pained. There was blood. I didn’t expect to see blood. She has a loose tooth she will undoubtedly lose while eating. She has a cavity in another tooth and will have to return to the vet in a month to check for infection and to see what we will do to fix this situation, if it can be fixed. Pepper is a ninja. In all the years I have owned her she has never once let me clip her nails or brush her teeth. She has amazing reflexes. I am the one who ends up with damages, scratches, and bite marks. Any time I have attempted to do things she does not want she draws blood, mine.

I was a lost soul after my kid sister died. I hate the term passed away. She didn’t pass anything. She was involved in a car accident that claimed her life, like some Netherworld badass took her life in token, almost as if it held a winning lottery ticket from the other side of the veil. It has taken me a long time to sort of come to terms with my loss. Some days I am still painfully angry but Pepper, my cat, helps me find a space of peace and love.

She makes me get out of bed in the morning. She butts her head into my legs when she is in need of love and smoochies. She bites my feet through the blankets when I toss and turn too much and disrupt her sleep. She is the one who sits on my chest and gazes into my face until my unconscious self becomes aware. She is velvet soft. She purrs instantly if I rub her head or brush out her mane. She prefers human hairbrushes to cat combs. I have to keep mine away from her reach or she will claim it as her own.

My ninja cat is an oddity. She was weened too young (not my fault) her tummy cannot tolerate wet food. She likes to lick the salt off potato chips and will steal pretzels from you if you are not careful. She adores raisins. I know they are poisonous to cats. If I accidentally drop a raisin it becomes a race to see if I will be able to pick it up before she sweeps in with her ninja reflexes and consumes it. I don’t eat raisins in the house often…she is that fast. She adores fresh carrots, balsamic vinaigrette, and grilled chicken.  She loves the smell of my mint dental floss, so much so that I have to conceal it in the trash bin to keep her from taking it after I have discarded it or she will steal it to chew on as if it were her own. I can not wear any lip balm to bed containing peppermint oil. She will wait until I fall asleep and have a tasting binge of my face.

Her little soul has become part of my being. Talking to the vet yesterday I felt myself getting teary eyed. I see more clearly now that she is aging. Sometimes I have to pick her up to put her on the bed. She has slowed down some. After a long nap she favors one leg a little more than the others so she limps. Her hearing is not as acute as it once was. I can sneak up on her if she is in a deep sleep. She seeks me out more often for cuddles and wants to snuggle under blankets even when it is not cold. Love for a pet is a real thing. I love her more than I realized.

 

 

 

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