Kamikatze! A pet fight for life and death
There are very nice pets? Dogs for example. I like very much. Or rabbits, chinchillas, budgies for my sake. Hell, I could probably handle a raven-driven falcon in a dive.
But there is an animal that chases the spinach in my pants: neighbor Irma Mietzekätzchen bonuses. And though I can usually avoid this insidious war machine quite well, if Irma has to go to the hospital again, she will entrust bonuses to my care. What happens then is a titanic battle. Marching orders!
Level 1: Entry of the gladiators
"Damnatio ad bestias"? does not sound good, right? If that is not the case, then in ancient Rome the death penalty (almost damnation) was called a beast. In the arena the lions (or bears, alligators, tigers) are accused of frustration, literally.
But Boni does not rush at me right away. The damn animal is more cruel than Hannibal Lecter, shows me the cold shoulder and goes up and down in the apartment. First time.
I know the trick. When she was in prison for the second time, did she mimic the tame cat lady? to my doom. As soon as I approached her, she started walking on my socks.
Not this time. I keep in the background, but do not let her out of my sight. Not me either. I'm sweating blood. The thing sits lurking in the semi-darkness of the living room.
Stage 2: Psychological Warfare
Ritsch ritsch ritsch. Silence. I look up from my book and the cat is gone. Ritsch ritsch ritsch does it for it. That comes from behind the couch.
Of course, armed with the water splash I go check. Bonuses already awaits me, grave-staring look, this cat wins every Blinzelkampf.
Then she starts sprinting, struck by lightning, once around my legs? I twist my neck, that's how fast it works. Boni jumps on the windowsill: flower vase wobbles. Flower vase drops. I catch her, Boni is gone. Then it makes Ritsch ritsch ritsch again. Bloody hell!
The Mietze does not give a damn about my sofa. She looks straight into my eyes and slowly lifts her paw towards the leather cover? riiiich riiiich riiiiiiich.
Stage 3: Fieser house fight
Before you read on now: The only animal cruelty, which is operated here, is that at Homo Sapiens. That's me. This has nothing to do with my apartment. I was imprisoned in Guantanamo Bay and my guard is Boni, Stalin among the cats.
I sprayed her wet! With my splash of water, presented by Irma like a dying king, kindly inheriting his proud sword: "Here, when the time comes, be ready."
But not the couch was the trigger: Hurricane Boni went on the dishes! On the dishes! Which cat is interested in plates and glasses, where not even sausage is on it?
But now she had me where she wanted me: At the end of the street where the warning is appropriate: beware, from here no nerves. Or rather, on the abyss. Of course she did not stop. With nothing.
Stage 4: Ges (tr) andet
Irma, the good ones. She found us both on the couch, exhausted and resigned. Bonuses splashed wet, I with holes in the sports pants. Like two boxers.
Of course, it was not me who got her under control, but the TV. Pied Piper of all children, holy electricity box. An animal documentary from the African savanna? Hyenas, lions and elephants. Loud whistling and roaring? Bonuses was blown away.
And when she leaves, she brushes my legs, the bitch. So in the sense of "Good fight, you bum. Until next time."
