Kitty Monster

This is Ashes.  You've met her before.


Please ignore the well-past-the-date Christmas wrap in the background.
I found it this weekend while shoveling out The Girl's room.

 She's technically The Hubs' cat, even though I'M the one who rescued her when she "kissed" me from the top of my car.  No, I won't even mention the time I held on to her when a stray dog came running up and she dug her little fiesty claws into me trying to run away.  Nor will I bring up the pain and anguish I went through when she disappeared on me for a month after the July 4th fireworks and a plethora of rain storms drove her into hiding.  Nor will I remind everyone how I sustained head injuries when she climbed atop my head after her first few days in the house when I turned  on an unknown-to-her water faucet while holding on to her. 

She is my husband's cat.  She chooses him over and over and over again to sleep upon (although she has chosen me on occasion, I feel so honored), and he is the Only person in the house who can walk up and pet her without her running away.

However, he is also her "toy" of choice.  She will attack him with... and without... provocation.

Yep, enough of the petting... she's getting ready...

The Hubs knows what's coming...

He even tried  walking away before SHE was done, and she ran down the table she was on and lashed out at him.   So he "fought" her for a while. 

And even though she was tired and laying down, she still wasn't done.

When she was, she walked away, curled up on my sweater and started cleaning herself.

Fighting daddy is hard, dirty work!