Be afraid, be very afraid.

Little Oliver

This is Oliver when he was just a little kitty, we called him, “The Cat from Hell.”

He would race like a maniac through my son’s house, and in his downtime he’d steal pickles and pizza slices and put them in shoes.

If we went to visit and stayed overnight, we spent the night sleepless, waiting to be pounced on in a sneak attack.

Being a cat, night time was his favorite. When they didn’t have overnight guests, he spent a large portion of the midnight hours unrolling the toilet paper in my son’s bathroom.

5027 Oliver (39 of 1)

At about a year and a half of age, Ollie came to live with us. Our son moved for work to Wisconsin and there was not going to be enough room or action in the little studio apartment to entertain a busy cat.

2894 hey dr dan thanks for making max all shiny and new (1 of 1)

We could provide a dog to chew on, birds to watch and plenty of hiding places. The cat from hell was very happy, he didn’t mind being scolded for scaring a hearing impaired, sixteen year old dog, ten times a day.

Little Max left us almost two years ago and the more time that goes by, the more Oliver has focused on me. He likes to rip my bangs out while I sleep…(I DO wake up when he does it.)

Hiding on top of the refrigerator and then sliding down it like a snake when I walk by has become a favorite pastime. If one eye closes half way, his eyes dilate and his ears go back, I know I’m in deep doo-doo. 

I now emit blood-curdling screams in my sleep. I am not making this up. I’m going to give my husband a heart attack and the cat from hell will be all curled up on the back of the sofa acting innocent when the ambulance gets here.