My Cat is the Spawn of Satan

1 May

I need to book an exorcism for my cat.

No, not my beloved Lola. This is a new one.

Unfortunately, my near and dear Lola Bear recently got very ill and slowly passed away. It hurt so very badly and my parents tried to help make it better by bringing me a seemingly innocent-looking spawn of Satan to help with the pain. Meet the hellchild with which they’ve cursed my life:


Now, I know that your first impression of Monk (The Monkfish, Monkey, Monk) might be to trust him. Or to assume his innocence. It’s okay, I understand: he does look so cute that you just want to squeeze all the life juice out of him – but it’s just a tool to lure you in so that he can badger-jab you in the face.

As Monk grew up, I tried to remember that things he does as a tiny kitten may be charming, but when he does them as a cat, they will hurt. So I tried to remain vigilant in his training: no table tops, no eating out of the garbage or from my leftover food, no flying from all dimensions of space toward my head, etc. Basically, the things I never had to worry about with Lola – but I was at least twelve years out of practice in my cat training, and honestly guys I don’t think I did a very good job. Because though I did try to back off the number of times I would let him play with my hands instead of a toy, I did also simultaneously encourage regular Ninja Training Courses with Dave.

Dave is a forest child and in his heart, he can speak to animals. (He frequently scolds me for talking down to cats or talking about them where they can hear me.) Because of this hypersensitivity, when it comes to animal training, Dave’s skills really shine and I wanted Monk to benefit from it. And has he.

Monk can do flips in the air, scale the most difficult of mountains (fire places), and is generally a badass. He can lurk in the tiniest of corner spaces, hunt down even the best hidden cat toy, and keep up with a laser pointer with no sweat. When he was little, these skills were pretty darn exciting. Now that he’s older, they’re terrifying.

Three separate times during this post, I looked at him and thought: what a cute kitty! and pet him. And then he full-body hooked around my arm and rabbit kicked the bejeezus out of me. Three separate times.

Oh, and he’s bigger now:


He’s up there at the top. See him? And yeah, I know – he still looks pretty cute. But then ask yourself: …how did he even get up there? I do love this cat, but he is no Lola. He was born straight from Satan’s fire.  How did he get up there, you ask? With the power of Lucifer.

Now, I understand that lots of cats are assholes and that’s just the way it is. But you have to believe me: this is something unnatural. The list of grievances is quite large, and means that when someone is catsitting for me, I have to prepare ample notes in advance. They include:

  • Sometimes he’ll climb up your legs or back and begin to eat your hair
  • Sometimes he’ll hop on your face in bed and…eat your hair.
  • He is a master ninja and it won’t take long for him to learn how to dart out your door the moment it opens. Be prepared with some sort of Monkblocker when you enter. 
  • He’ll frequently weave in and out of your legs as you walk. Stopping and letting him go first won’t make a difference – he walks when you walk. You’re going to hit him in the face; it’s okay – it’s just a fact.
  • He doesn’t like to be left out, so he meows when you close a door on him. Even the bathroom.
  • If you don’t play with him enough during the day, he’ll be batshit crazy while you try to sleep. 
  • He eats plants and climbs on things and does every other imaginable terrible cat thing.
  • He’ll attack your hands if you let him.
  • He love, love, loves a good laser pointer session. Be careful – he’ll run directly into things if you let him. He already suffers from a few minor concussions.
  • He’s obsessed with seltzer water. If you leave a container of unfinished seltzer water out, he will immediately come knock it over. Please don’t leave it unattended.

It goes on. Just like this. For a long time.

Now, I have read at least the first forty available articles on what to do about a hypercrazy cat, but they haven’t worked. I’ve talked to the vet, who suggested scaring the bejeezus out of him when he’s doing something wrong by crashing something loud near him (Monk couldn’t care less). I’ve played directly before dinner (nope), played at least two hours a day (nope), moved eating times around (nope), ignored him (nope), paid too much attention to him (nope), yelled at him (nope), took things away from him (nope), moved my entire apartment around to accommodate for him (nope)– I’m simply out of ideas. I think he’s possessed.

I’ve been cranking down my social calendar in the hopes that spending even more time with him will help his issues. So I’m officially moving into a deeply unhealthy relationship. I’ve thought about getting another cat to help him cope with whatever his internal struggle is, but I’m worried he’ll take it out on me that I show affection for another. Or worse: that the demon in him will move from being to being, and I will double the horror of my plight. So there may be only one option left: an exorcism.

I think I read somewhere in those forty articles I googled that it takes a level 35 cat lady mage to conduct a proper exorcism – but that’s a pretty high level cat lady and no doubt the path I must go on to seek her out is dark and full of terrors. Still – this is no way to live and I have no real choice. I must go into the unknown – to trace the untraceable. 

Wish me luck. 

cat lady


15 Responses to “My Cat is the Spawn of Satan”

  1. Lynn May 1, 2017 at 11:03 am #

    Having raised cats since 1978, what he needs is a cat friend. I hate to say it but you probably need to get a second cat. Get one younger than him, probably a neutered female. Best of luck.


    • Jackie May 1, 2017 at 7:34 pm #

      Oh noooooo ugh. I know. I’ve been briefly enjoying half the cost and half the fur. 😉


  2. Momma May 1, 2017 at 2:06 pm #

    You know the real problem. You brought him home to Mom and Dad’s house where there is a worse cat. Louie and Monk get along great which is proof in itself that there is something wrong with Monk. Louie doesn’t like any cat on this earth but Monk. Blame it on Louie for teaching him bad things. Well, I can’t blame it all on Louie. He at least stays off our table and counters. Or does he??? Hard to tell what he does while we are at work.


    • Jackie May 1, 2017 at 7:34 pm #

      I’m blaming him (you) for everything 😛


  3. livesinstone May 1, 2017 at 6:48 pm #

    Ha ha ha. That post was awesome, and so is that super high cat tree! Have you tried clicker training? It might be something worth trying. If nothing else it makes for a good bonding activity. 🙂


    • Jackie May 1, 2017 at 7:36 pm #

      Oh! No but I’ll check it out, thanks! And the cat tree is courtesy of The Dave. Eventually I will put mossy carpet on the landings and hang all sorts of things from it for Monk’s batting pleasure. Then he’ll probably stop using it because cats are jerks.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Ice_Badger May 2, 2017 at 7:15 am #

    I have no solutions at all…

    I have three crazy but tiny cats who were once tiny crazy kittens, they basically gang up on mice and take it in turns to eat my hair but are really quite calm… I dread to think what will happen if they ever decide to take over the world though…

    I appreciate that this is no help at all…


    • Jackie May 8, 2017 at 10:34 pm #

      Actually that’s worse than no help. Because I told myself the answer was another cat! I’m doomed.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ice_Badger May 9, 2017 at 12:36 am #

        Yes… I do believe you are doomed…
        But it might work and you may be in for feline domestic bliss…


  5. raoulworks May 8, 2017 at 11:03 am #

    I hope you do find someone to conduct the exorcism and it was a fun article. Loved it and all the best with your demon


    • Jackie May 8, 2017 at 10:34 pm #

      you know, I came very close the other day right after he hopped inside my fridge for the fiftieth time, but the refrigerator glow caught his face just right and he was too cute for me to go through with it. Every time.

      Thanks for reading!



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