Is he channeling the spirit of the late Kim Jong-Il?
My parents’ cat and I have reached a détente. Zeus, who much like the dearly departed Kim Jong-Il would like to be called the Supreme and Most Magnificent Leader, likes to play rough. I didn’t realize at first that his idea of play was my idea of torture. I don’t speak cat. His play includes attacking my calf and ripping my pants to shreds. He also likes to corner me in the hallway and stare menacingly.
I used to live with this cat. While growing up he was so sweet. He would sit in my lap, giving no indication that he wanted to claw me in the eye or eat my entrails. When he played then he liked toys and games. He loved it when you threw a ball in the air; then he’d run and catch it.
But then I moved. Perhaps he’s mad about that. I think he has PMS. Plus, there’s other cats to contend with. He’s the alpha male. But when I brought my concerns (facial lacerations, deep contusions) to my parents they said, “Oh, he’s just playing.” And apparently I was doing it wrong. In order to “play” with the Supreme and Most Magnificent Leader in the known universe (sorry Kimmy, your time has past), you had to let him bite you! “He just wants to gnaw a little bit,” my mom said. “On my flesh?” “That’s the general idea.”
No one demonstrated this technique to me. I was to learn by trial and error. I was only told: Keep your body still. So I did and he gnawed. It worked….after a few tries. When someone attempts to bite your hand, one’s natural human reaction is to pull your hand away. Quickly! That left me in pain. Now I just let him gnaw. And he doesn’t puncture my skin. I can’t fathom the depths of his mind. I don’t speak cat.
