She chose me, according to the adage.
I gave her, I thought, the best, most carefree life. In me, I supposed, she chose her rescuer and I poured out my love, attention and protection, and reveled in her beauty, her tininess, her vulnerability, and her love for me. She won my heart and, I thought, I won hers.
The violence was heartbreaking and shocking. She meant to do me harm and to cause me pain. Not all the time but also not just last night. She seemed to adapt. When I was bare-legged she would begin to climb but then, sensing my body tense or heat up, she would relent. I kept a pair of my sturdiest denim jeans at the handy by my desk. I accepted the biting and clawing as part of my unconditional love for her. I didn't want to change her, I would adapt to her. And so I did, wearing "cat body armor", full length pajama bottoms and tops, even with socks on my hands for extra protection for months.
And then last night. She hooked her claw into my thigh so firmly that my skin distended grotesquely with the pull. Even in exasperation and pain I steadied myself, fearful that any sudden move would cause the skin to rip open. I slowly and gently reached around with my left hand to remove her barbed fish hook claw. She then violently attacked the thumb, causing a slice whose pain I could not steel myself against.
I slept with the door to the bedroom closed and she without last night. I was so upset that I dreamed of her, she was being put to sleep as I watched. I awoke this morning still too upset to engage with her. I ignored her as I made coffee and ate a bit and then sat at my desk, barelegged. She started to climb. I firmly yelled "NO!" and she desisted. That is the only word I spoke to her today.
"Get her spayed!" my family advised. I wasn't going to do that. Didn't want her to change. Wanted her just the way she was. "Take her to the vet!", which I was going to do today for her worsening alopecia. "The vet can help with her behavior!" She chose me, but I can unchoose. If that's her natural behavior around me, she chose unwisely. Never called the vet today to make an appointment. She's not worth it.
I have decided to take a hands off approach: no thrilled, affectionate words, no stroking or caressing. Her behavior under this new regimen in the next few days will determine if she continues to have a life with me, or any life at all.
