Name: Killer Kitty
What makes Killer Kitty so mean?
We found this cat when our old neighbours picked up a hairless, clumpy, tar-covered half-alive kitten in the gutter among leaves. She washed it and upon discovering she was very allergic gave the mass of a few hairs to me. Mum honestly didn’t think it would live through the night, but it did and it ate and it grew. For the first month it literally growled as it ate, it was pretty funny sounding.
We could pet it but no men could go near it; to this day it just hates my uncle Donald, and he was the man who went and got it food from the local store. Poor thing still hates being picked up and later (let’s say you’re barefoot watching TV) he will sit and then out of nowhere attack your foot and scratch it to pieces. When I was little, Mum stepped on it by mistake, and it ripped her foot apart. I had to mop up blood and get bandaids. She didn’t go for stitches, though. Anyway I still love my cat even though it probably hates me, but oh well, that’s cats for you.
Photo submitted by: Pac(wo)man