Chronicles of an Evil Cat: Part 1

I've deemed cats evil for quite some time now. I came into possession of a cat when my sister had to give hers up, on account of allergies (or so she said). In the past I have believed him to be a sinister fellow. He has pooped on my bed in a fit of rage, thrown litter all over my floor, and he enjoys walking in circles around my head when he deems I have slept enough for one night (usually around 3am). Two months ago I moved in with two girls that had a cat of their own. I realize now that Tigger is an angelic saint kitty, as I have met true evil.

Bella is a demon kitty, made of molten hot lava and ash. She is about half of the size of Tigger and has him cowering in fear. When she enters a room, Tigger bolts out of it as though someone has pointed a loaded squirt gun at him. Bella wears a little jingle bell that warns of her arrival. I can hear the bell jingle outside of my bedroom door all night long, as though she is pacing back and forth waiting for her chance to kill me in my sleep...if only she could get the door open. Bella also likes to place objects on the stairs that lead to my bedroom, which is another more subtle attempt on my life.

Clearly there is a demon residing in her little cat body because when she opens her mouth to eat a disturbing sound erupts. This sound is comparable to what I assume a rabid dog foaming at the mouth sounds like when someone threatens to steal his food. The evil spirit which resides in Bella also calls out when one attempts to relocate her. Bella refuses to suffer the indignity of drinking water out of a cat bowl, and instead demands a human glass be placed on the floor for her daily.

Tigger has become a whipped sad version of himself. Some days Bella entraps him in his own litter box, and other days she shuts him out of my room completely so she can sleep on my bed all day. Although Bella disdains cat bowls, she does not hesitate to drink water out of Tigger's water bowl just to spite him. The she-devil waits outside my bedroom door every morning so she can run in and devour all of Tigger's breakfast, regardless of whether or not her own bowl is full of food just up the stairs.

The past couple of months Tigger and I have grown closer, sharing a mutual fear. I no longer throw him off my bed if he steps on my hair in the middle of the night, and he makes a genuine effort to keep his litter in the box. We have reached a common ground because there is safety in numbers, and we won't survive in this apartment if we do not unite against the Satan kitty.