Luna-tic Cat

The Feline Spawn of Satan

Meet Luna, officially, the meanest cat I’ve ever met.

Luna is a transplant (apparently to her great displeasure) from the streets of New York to Gordo, Alabama, and she will quickly let you know she wants nothing to do with us fleshy bipeds.

I consider myself to be very good with cats and will probably wind up some day being known as the “crazy cat lady” to all my neighbors. Even the most skittish of cats eventually seem to warm up to me. In my own head, I think of myself as the Cat Whisperer.

And then… in Sandee’s uncle’s print shop, I met Luna.

The folks who worked in the print shop warned me that she was mean, and I believed them, and yet at the same time, I thought I would be able to charm her into letting me pet her. I was sitting near the door where she was wanting to pass. I held the back of my hand down to her as she neared. She tentatively smelled my hand, and as I spoke sweetly to her, she lightly bumped the back of my hand with her head. The whispering had commenced.

She passed on by and went outside for a few minutes. I didn’t see her come back in, but eventually, she was once more walking toward the door again to go back outside. I thought we’d make another step toward becoming friends, so again, I extended the back of my hand, and again, she bumped it with her head. Then she sat down, and her tail started to twitch… I recognized that twitch and made sure not to take my eyes off of her as I extended my hand closer.

Sure enough, a slight tilt of the head was just enough to warn me that razor claws were about to swipe in an arc toward my fingers. I pulled back just as she attacked and avoided any injury. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she held her paw in the air a couple more seconds as if to ask me “You want a piece of me?!” I did not.

Luna won that round, but as she was leaving, I made a sound that got her attention, hoping to get a good picture of her. All I got was a face full of disapproval.  :)

3 thoughts on “Luna-tic Cat

  1. Great picture!!! Keep trying to get on her right side. I never have, but then…. she was born right before 9/11 and lived in a closet in Brooklyn with her brothers and sisters. The super of the building said her Dad was “Uncle Grandpa” of the neighborhood. She was a sweet kitten, but is very particular about being touched.

  2. Since she is my “grandcat”, I try to frame anything I say about her with great tact. She has been through some interesting times.
    I have only seen three people able to pick her up, and I am not one of them. She is the happiest I have ever seen her in the print shop… Oh, I forgot: she took her first airplane ride when she was about ten weeks old, from NYC to Chicago.

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