About 12 years ago, I fell in love with Persians. Their smushy faces are so expressive. I bought my first one at an flea market - sans fleas. His name was Oscar. The woman who sold him to me for $50 was teary-eyed as she handed him over. A giant white fluff ball, with orange tipped ears and tail and big blue eyes. She assured us that he was neutered and declawed. We were definitely thankful for the declawing, on the way home. We hadn't expected to buy an animal and so we were lacking the proper carrying case. Oscar spent the hour drive home hissing at us from under the seat and jumping at the back window.
By the time we got home, the kids had made friends with him and we took him in the house. Months went by and the kids went off to school and I went back to work. Poor Oscar was bored and lonely and a bored and lonely kitty is trouble! I would return home to find the house a mess, plants would be dug up, dishes knocked on the floor, rugs bunched up. Oscar needed a friend.
I started watching the classified ads for a friend for Oscar. I really wanted to get another Persian. One day, I found one and not just any Persian, but a flame-tip - just like Oscar.
The girls and I made an appointment to look at the new cat. I'm not sure what to say about this cat, except she was a diva to the max. She sat staring at us from a pillow, like we were far beneath her status. We talked to her owner and agreed to a price and Jasmine was placed in her carrier.
She hissed. She spit. She screamed all the way home. I took her in the bathroom - the smallest room in the house and opened the cage. I wanted her to feel safe while she acculmated to the sights and smells of her new home.
During the day, while we were all gone, she must have explored the house. I never found any messes in her cage or the bathroom and she was eating food from her little Princess Kitty-Cat bowl. But as soon as she heard us returning, she hid in her cage. When anyone tried to peek at her, she hissed and tried to claw us. I figured she'd eventually figure out that we weren't going to hurt her.
About five days of playing hide and seek with the cat, I came home before the kids. I don't think Jas heard me come home or she didn't care. Anyway, I went to use the bathroom and never thought twice about the cat, when I shut the door behind me. As I was washing my hands, I heard a hissing noise and looked down. There between the door and myself was Jas, her ears flattened against her head, her eyes narrowed to slits and her fangs glistening. She had been hiding behind the toilet.
I stared at her, she stared back -unblinking. I took a step toward the door and she lunged at me, her teeth gnashing, her claws slashing. I jumped back. Jas lunged again. MAD CAT! I thought. It was a warm day and I was wearing shorts and no shoes. I was no match against the razor sharp claws and needle like teeth. I had no intention of ending up a bloody mess.
Jas lunged again and this time I hopped in the tub and shut the sliding door. I could her the vicious She-Devil, hissing and caterwauling. I was trapped. No one was home and the neighbor's house was too far away for them to hear me yelling. This 6 pound hairball had me cowering in the tub with no way out. Once in awhile, I'd slide the door open a crack. There she sat - staring at me with pure hatred. If I attempted to open the door any farther, she'd hiss and jump at me. Resigned to my fate, I made myself as comfortable as I could.
I'm not sure how long I was trapped in the tub, but finally, I heard my kids coming home from school.
"Help, Help." I yelled.
"Mom?"
"Open the bathroom door, carefully and try to get the cat out."
"Why?"
"Because..." I sighed, "because, she has me trapped in the bathtub."
I heard a lot of giggling and for a moment I thought that my kids might leave me stuck in the bathroom with this vicious cat guarding me. But then I heard the door open.
"She's out Mom. You can come out." I peeked out and didn't see or hear the cat.
"Where is she?"
"don't know...she just ran out." I quickly climbed out of the tub and was able to escape the confines of the bathtub.
As for Princess Jasmine Kitty-Cat, well as I write this she's sitting beside me, editting my writing to be sure. She wanted me to tell you that at 11 years of age, she's now called Queen Jaz or Your Highness and she still rules the house.
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