RIP, Crappy Cat

The first cat Typing Slave was ever owned by as an adult has passed away due to a surfeit of meanness this week. During an insane commando attack upon one of the other feline residents of Grandma Slave's household, she suffered a stroke from which her physical form was unable to recover (although her mental state, hateful and foul, was unaffected).

Sophy Nell wasn't the "original" meankitty, but in a sense, she was the inspiration for Typing Slave's reflections on why some cats are so smart and clever (aka mean) and why the good sort of humans obey them anyway.

This was a cat whom the vet swore he'd autopsy after her demise to find out if the brain was as misshapen and demented as the behavior. (Note to readers: vet did not do autopsy.)

This was a cat who simply had to be in the same room as any humans in the house, the better to bite and scratch and yowl at them, instead of avoiding humans as some meankitties do.

This was a cat who didn't like any humans, felines, dogs or other animals, and sometimes didn't seem to like furniture, appliances, carpets or the air, though some meankitties have a soft spot for one or two of the big things and hate all others.

This was a cat who sometimes made her displeasure with her human known by hosing down stacks of (clean) laundry and secreting barf in shoes, as well as other incidences of psychological kitty warfare.

This was a cat whose pupils were almost always dilated with rage, the better to spot any infractions that must be punished.

This was a cat who, back in the days that she was strictly a housecat before she lived with Grandma Slave, could escape through a crack in the door an inch wide and run free and wild in the city streets, to the horror and dismay of Typing Slave. But only in very bad weather and when Typing Slave was carrying an awkward load of breakable items.

This was a cat whose behavior once upset the humans so much on a cross country car trip, they managed to lock the keys in the car at a rest area (albeit with the cat out of the car and on a stupid leash). The cat on her stupid leash then terrorized the rest area's patrons for hours while the young humans awaited the locksmith they could scarce afford.

This was a cat who went through a couple vets during her youth before finding one who would allow her to be brought back onto the premises.

This was a cat who had no compunction about applying tooth and nail to small humans and sometimes sought opportunities to do so, until the small things learned what 'stay away from the bad kitty' meant. It is possible that the tiny scar on one of Typing Slave's children's noses will ever be a reminder that when Mommy says 'leave that kitty alone', it's wise to heed her advice.

This was a cat who could bite a human in such a way that said human would end up with some kind of infection and in need of medical care. Just ask Grandma Slave.

This was a cat whose menacing growls and yowls could curdle the blood of the largest male human, especially when they were attempting to court Typing Slave back in her single days. This was also a cat who usually chose not to communicate unless it was via menacing growls and yowls.

This was a cat who loved to eat asparagus, eggs, buttered corn on the cob and people.

This was a cat who could move so fast, when she chose, that she was a blur to human eyesight, the better to facilitate her evil deeds.

This was, in short, a true meankitty.

RIP, Sophy, crappiest of kitties. May your foulness live on in legend.

Sincerely,
MK