Cats, Piñatas, and Self Defense

       It was December 2006. I wasn't yet married and was sharing an apartment with my maid of honor. I was thrilled that she moved in with me. She brought friendship, kindness, and joy into my  apartment. She covered half the rent and forced me to be organized, which was quite necessary. 

         As she moved in, box after box was stacked up around her room, leaving only a small path from the door to her bed. Among the many things that she brought into our apartment, was a furry gray cat. Now listen. I'm allergic to cats. Up to this point I didn't quite care for them, but for my dear friend, I was willing to make things work. I would not only try to tolerate the cat but become friends with it and do whatever else cat people do. 

        Christmas was quickly approaching and the wrapping of gifts had commenced. My room mate was down the street with family. So I put on my brand new pj's and proceeded to wrap my gifts, but I needed tape. I walked through the tiny path of boxes in Jane's room and retrieved the roll of tape from her night stand. I turned around and as I started toward the path to the door, I was met by a very surprised feline. He be-bopped into her room, came to a screeching halt, and fixed his eyes on me. He stood still in the doorway. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked at me. I looked at him.  Not really knowing what to do and feeling quite awkward at the situation, I spoke to the cat in a tiny baby voice,"Hi, kitty kitty?......" I moved toward the door and that's when it happened. The cat LOST  it. I didn't know that cats could fly! The thing leaped at me, claws out, meowing and hissing. I shrieked and threw my hands up over my face. I danced in circles and waved my arms over my head. I was terrified the cat was going to get stuck in my hair. He took a second leap at me. Arms flailing, I jumped back and I heard a loud rip! The cat crouched down in the middle of the path as I stood next to Jane's bed. The cat growled at me. As I tried to catch my breath,  I looked down and my pants were shredded down the legs. I knew this cat wanted to kill and eat me. 

I had to get out of there. I was a prisoner and I had to pee. I'd take a step toward the door and he would lunge at me. I was trapped. My phone was in my room and there was a cat in my path. I shouted for help and no one came. I would have climbed out the window but I was on the second floor. 

So, I devised a plan and took action. I ran towards the door and he attacked. I grabbed the nearest, and least damaging thing I could get my hands on:  A roll of red wrapping paper. I swung that roll of paper back and fourth in a desperate attempt to free myself. I was a mighty warrior, running into battle. The adrenaline was too much and I became a mighty knight, fighting a magnificent beast. It became a sword fight, really. With every hit, his legs stiffened up and he flopped into the air at me.  As I made my way towards the door, I whacked him over and over and over. (I may have gotten a little excited and overly zealous). All of a sudden little brown candies were falling all over the floor. Then it hit me, ..... those weren't candies, if you get my drift. I was terrified. I just kept beating him and he kept jumping stiff legged and high into the air. Logs of cat poop, resembling tootsie rolls, were landing all over the place. I finally made it out of the room and quickly closed the door behind me. Fluffy scratched and meowed and hissed behind the door. 

       After I calmed down, I laid the mangled mess of festive paper to the side. The once firm tube of paper was now..... floppy. Then it hit me. Did I kill it? The cat was angry no doubt, a nasty growling mess. I couldn't get back in that room and there was a "mess" to clean. How do you explain to your roommate that you just treated her cat like a piñata? The phone conversation  went as follows:

Me: Hi, Jane.

Jane: What's up?

Me: Well. It's about Fluffy......

Jane: Whaaaaat about Fluffy?

Me: .................. He pooped.

Jane: Whaaaaat? .......

Me:....... He pooped....... 

Jane: Where?

Me: In your floor. (awkward silence)

Jane: He pooped?

Me: Yes. I'm really sorry. I'd clean it up myself but he's really mad at me right now and wont let me in your room. We had a little confrontation but its settled now........ (More awkward silence) 

Jane: He pooped? 

Me: Yes. 

Jane: I don't understand....... He ...... pooped????? 

Me: Yes, Jane. He pooped.......... 

Jane: O...K ........ I'll be there it a minute.

    So Jane came back to the apartment to clean the mess. When she arrived I handed her the mangled, flopping roll and said,"Here's your wrapping paper." She looked at it then looked at me and said,"Do I owe you new pants?"  I said," We're even." 

   I think she put two and two together but we've never spoken of it since. As for Fluffy, he continued to live a full and healthy life. The only thing he lost that night was a battle with an awkward roommate and a little dignity. This just goes to show that true friendship can overcome many obstacles. I drilled her cat and yet somehow our relationship remains intact. A God thing? Yup. I thank God for friends like Jane and for the strength to fight off angry constipated cats. 

"I can do all things through Christ which  strengtheneth me." Philippians 4:13 KJV