I have my suspicions. Not sure if he was trying to take out the camera, or the person holding it...given my familiarity with his moody temperament, my guess would be both...
In case you're wondering where I got the title from...the way his paw morphs into a swordy type weapon, reminds me of a scene from Terminator 2(?) where something similar happens. Not that the Terminator had paws, obviously, but well...okay...maybe it's just me...
This ginger beastie definitely had stealth on his side. One of his favourite pastimes was scaring the crap out of me. I would be sitting on the edge of the deck, minding my own business, when I would suddenly feel something lightly brush against my leg.
It's not like he would hear me come outside and wander over to say hello. He would just be hiding/lurking under the deck, often for ten minutes or longer, under my radar, making not a single sound to alert me to his presence, waiting for the right fright moment...
And while I was allowed to pat him once to acknowledge his masterful sneak-up-on-the-hooman skills, an attempt at a second pat would prompt that touch-me-again-and-risk-permanent-disfigurement look. A not very subtle way to let me know when he wanted to terminate our conversation. I learnt the hard way that it wasn't an exaggeration.
This is the look I'm talking about;
Kinda surprised I survived the photoshoot, really.
Admittedly, I did have to step back a few times to make a risks vs benefits analysis.
Acknowledging, of course, that it is the height of rudeness to shove a camera in someone's face...
Even when they are clearly a feline supermodel. One with terminator tendencies...
This cat was one mean machine. Talk about a bad-ass kitty. But then, he was--and probably still is--King of the Castle. Every other cat in the neighbourhood was, quite rightly, terrified of him. He'd sneak up on them too. Silent assassin style. Hellbent on annihilation.
Here he is doing his King of the Castle pose. How regal is he...the Alpha Overlord demanding to be worshipped by his minions...
A photogenic fellow who knows how beautiful he is...
I actually called him Aslan. But only because of his King of the Castle/Jungle status. He was more like the Ice Queen in temperament. A handsome tyrant though. How could anyone not worship him?
And here is more of that icy stare;
These pictures expose him lurking in his hiding place, under the deck. Naturally, he was a bit miffed about that.
Understandable. Cats value their privacy. And their personal space. Hoomans are not allowed to intrude into these restricted areas where felines fine tune their dastardly plans for world domination. Cat politics 101, folks.
I realise you are probably thinking that I should've noticed a pattern to his stalking behaviour...it's called learning, isn't it...and I did. Sort of.
After the first few frights, every time I went outside, I would sit on the deck and wait. And then wait some more. And then find myself thinking, maybe he can't fit sneaking up on me into his busy schedule today. Half the neighbourhood might be on his hit list...
And then I would get distracted, by a bird, or a bug. There were lots of my favourite jumping spiders scurrying across the deck, plus the deck was in close proximity to the stick insect community that lived in the fejoia tree, so it was easy for my attention to wander.
And then, he would strike. Again. Making me jump. Again.The sneaky fellow...plotting his devious, cunning shenanigans from the privacy of his--almost--secret underground bunker.
Not at all like Jorts, I have to say. (If you don't know who Jorts is, you really need to google it.)
Is the idea that ginger cats are a bit thick really a thing? If so, how did I not know that? (Yeah, I know, maybe I'm a little thick myself.) I'm fairly confident though that any attempt to butter Aslan's paws would result in significant injury--to the butterer.
I'm sure he probably likes butter, but would prefer to be served it--with a dollop of his own disdain for his lowly minion--in a respectful manner. Much more dignified. Actually...he's a cat, and a cunning one at that, so he probably prefers his butter stolen...doh...
I suspect that if Aslan is lurking not only under other people's decks, but also on social media these days, he would be thinking the same thing as that tweeter--I can't believe she...
Having said that--not sure I should be admitting this publicly, but hey--I have ...erm...buttered a cat's paws before. Not just one cat either.
Please let me explain. Surely I can't be the only person who has been advised to do this when shifting house, as a way to distract/calm a highly strung cat...? Anyone...?
I also buttered a kitty's paws when he was near death. He had stopped eating, and I was desperate. It didn't work, but an appetite stimulant pill from the vet did. Phew. That was a close one.
And that's a wrap for my first cat blog post, a place for me to tell as many cat stories as I so desire!
If you like insects as well as cats, I have another blog where I waffle mostly about bugs, but also other random stuff;
https://pinholesinthesky.blogspot.com/
So, is there a stroppy King or Queen of the Kitty Castle in your neighbourhood or household? Of course there is! Feel free to tell me about them! And to confess, if you have also ever buttered a cat's paws...
(Apologies for any formatting errors, oops, I'm posting from a phone.)
