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Rated: 13+ · Essay · Contest · #1006557
This is about a cat I once had.
I did not meet Vashtie until she was an adult. She was black with stripped silver highlights. Vashtie was the smallest and most courageous cat I ever encountered. She was not afraid of anyone or anything. Vashtie is the only cat I have ever meant that was completely fearless.

The first time I encountered Vashtie wrath, I was living in a house on the corner of Stewart and Cervantes in Las Vegas. I heard a yowling outside; it was another female cat in season. Since a vet spayed Vashtie two years before I acquired her, I did not think she would react to the other cat. Therefore, I opened the front door to investigate.

As I stood in the door looking across the front yard, Vashtie saw the other cat and went berserk. She attacked with all her claws unsheathed and biting. Excruciating pains run up my right leg. Vashtie did not mean to attack me; her intended victim was the strange cat yowling in the yard. I shut the door and looked down. Vashtie was still in the house, but blood ran down my leg and onto the tile floor.

“Back!” I said as I went to get the first aid kit, but Vashtie followed me into the bathroom.

I washed my leg off with soap and water, then taking the first aid kit with me, I went into the living room, where the light was better, to apply first aid. Vashtie continued to follow me, but now she was purring.

Once I stopped bleeding, I found she had not bitten me. However, she did leave deep claw wounds. I applied ointment and bandages to my wounds, and then I looked at Vashtie. She was setting on the divan next to me purring.

“Down!” I said, pointing to the floor. She immediately got off the divan and set on the floor looking at me. Then she begin rubbing against my right leg.

“No!” I got up, picked up the first aid kit and took it back into the bathroom. Vashtie followed me, attempting to rub against my legs as I walked.

I went back into the living, turned on the television and picked up the T.V. Guide. While I flipped through the T.V. Guide, Vashtie jumped onto the divan and rubbed against my arm.

“No!” I said, pointing to the other side of the divan. Giving me a sorrowful look, she moved to the other side of the divan and set there purring.

I felt sorry for her; she did not intend to attack me. In fact, I doubted that she even saw me standing in the doorway. The other cat was her intended victim. I guess it was better for me to have a few cat scratches, then to take her to the veterinary emergency room because she got into a fight.

“O.K.! You can apologize and get on my lap,” I said reaching over to stroke her head. She got on my lap and curled up. The rest of the evening, she stayed on my lap purring.

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