What makes T so mean?
T doesn’t pee on the rugs, walls, radiators and, occasionally, me – that was the two boys who now live outside. She doesn’t lurk in the closet to leap out on the other cat and any misplaced humans who might want to go from their bedroom to the bathroom. Instead, she howls at night from the top of the stairs hoping we’ll encourage her to run past the closet door in which the *other* cat (my partner’s) might be lurking.
She doesn’t drink from our water glasses, nor does she attack human toes – see “cat, other” above
She does flinch and run when my partner tries to pick her up, which happens eleventy times a day because my partner forgets T is not to be picked up – and also bounces down the stairs, jumps around and is generally scary. [Meankitty’s note: I am unsure if Cheryl is referencing T or her partner with the stair bouncing and general scariness. Probably T but it’s more amusing to think it’s her partner.] T isn’t being mean; we suspect she has an abuse history before she adopted me.
T’s primary claim to meankittiness is this: she has learned the one paw from the official mean kitty. And she uses it … continuously … when we’re in bed … sleeping … or otherwise occupied.
Photo submitted by: Cheryl