The Evil Done by Cats

I used to do this feature as part of June Cleaver Nirvana’s Potluck.

But potluck season is over, and it meant I had no weekly outlet to complain about the cats.

Oh, I worked it in now again so it wouldn’t bounce around in my head and cause migraines. Curing a cat-story migraine is a pain in the…uh…head. It requires heavy doses of Excedrin crushed in bourbon and a few hours in a quiet room watching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And enough of those “migraines” makes the family suspicious and they start shoving leaflets for chemical dependency programs in under the locked door.

So it’s best for all if I just make sure I share these stories as they occur.

So, let’s imagine my husband for a moment. Yes, the one who’s turning 50 in a couple of days. My husband, Himself, as he is known ’round these digital parts, is a wonderful, loving man. And he has been known to, with some regularity, bring me flowers. Why? Because they make me happy. Which means that there are fewer nights where I’ve locked myself up with cocktails and paranormal tv and more nights where I have cooked with actual ingredients.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home to a lovely bouquet of flowers. Which made me happy.

But I think, possibly, that Topaz is jealous.

Now, bear in mind that Topaz is MY cat, technically. I had her before Himself and I moved in together. But, it seems that she carries some resentment over the fact that Himself brings me flowers and brings her dried kibble.

After the flowers had been in the house a few days, we noticed some petals on the floor.

At first, we attributed this to the natural propensity of fresh flowers to, well, age.

But no.

Can you see that fuzzy shape in the background? That suspiciously cat-shaped shape in the background?

They always return to the scene of the crime.

Although I have no photographic evidence to share, we did actually catch her in the act of yanking petals off the flowers.

This is the view of said flowers from the floor where all the sad, decrepit, cat-yanked flowers lay like so many…like so many….oh, just insert a tragic metaphor about discarded items here. I can’t think of one.

Maybe what I really need to protect the flowers is a big glass dome.

Cause nothing says “I love you!” like flowers behind a protective barrier.


  1. “My” cat would do the same thing, but with house plants. I bought cactus plants, thinking that would stop her.

    Ate those, too.

    And they say dogs eat everything. Bet they don’t eat cactus!

  2. Cats? Are truly nefarious creatures. I actually have an excellent evil cat story…but I will have to edit it so as not to incriminate myself….but it is a good story…hehehe

    At least Topaz did not eat the flowers & then vomit their remains at 2am so you may step in said remains when you wake up the next morning. When the remains will then be very cold.


  3. I must say that I am glad I am not the only one with a propensity to blog about her cat. I have restrained as of late to do a blog post about my cat…perhaps I need to sneak one in there. He is a crotchety old man. And he does crotchety old man things.

  4. One of our cats just knocked my lovely flower and balloon birthday boquet off the top of the bookshelf. Where I put it so it would not be savaged by the cats.

    They are nefarious. It’s true.

  5. As Topaz and Zuul are of an age I can say that jealousy in Abys grows with time and proximity. Zuul has developed an unnatural need to stick her tail in PW’s face. She is my cat and would not even look at him for the first year of her life and now she follows him around, bum rushes the bedroom door so she can go in with him and yowls like she is dying each time HE goes into the bathroom. I mean really, who paid for her, stood by her through her parasite, pulled Gozer off her tiny little being repeatedly, brought in another cat to harry Gozer so she could have most of the house to herself. Where is the respect?

  6. This is why I don’t have cats. Also because (hiding behind my hands as I say this) I strongly believe that cats are evil. They’re just something that’s too wicked and mysterious about them to be trusted.

    My dogs have surprisingly left our vases of flowers alone (so far). BUT, digging them up in the garden is a totally different story. I had a bucket of flower remains that I was using as I dead headed a tons of them- HUGE bucket people. I put it down to help Ryker on the swing and next thing I knew, the bucket was empty.

    Two dogs sat innocently beside it, looking up at me with loving eyes. If I could just teach them to eat the dead head of the flower right off of the plant, they may actually be helpful.

  7. We are dog people, in the sense that we have all dogs and no cats, not in the sense of BEING some kind of dog/human hybrids.

    Our dogs don’t bother the flowers. They have something against blankets, brushes, baskets, cups, hats, wheelchairs, and wheels, though. Thank goodness they’re here to protect us from all the evil lurking right here in our own home!

  8. This post has has ellicted a response in me that I doubt you anticipated.

    I now want a cat.

    I’ve had cats my entire life, but Craig and I have been animal free for a couple of years now.

    We keep trying to convince ourselves that we are so much freer with no animals. That there’s no litter box. No food to purchase. No destroyed flowers.

    But you know what else is missing? Purring.

  9. There’s only one cat-free place in my entire apartment to put flowers — on top of my tallest bookshelf. Fortunately, I don’t get flowers very often. And by “fortunately,” I mean “sadly.” For Teva. She likes to stare longingly at them as they sit just slightly out of her reach.

    1. Well, I definitely couldn’t do that to Teva. So as much as I’d love to, I probably shouldn’t send you flowers.

      I would have guilt, and my cats would take it personally if I were tormenting cats that aren’t them.

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