We had this one cat when I was growing up, man that cat. When she was a young'un she chased her mom away biting and spitting. We would see the mom across the street, all forlorn, while Lizzie crouched on the fence staring at her.
(These were outdoor cats. Not feral, because they did come inside and hang with us and play nice. Which is what makes this psycho so strange.)
One time Lizzie sat on the fencepost watching crows fly by. The crows would come down into the yard for whatever they were eating, I have no clue, maybe they were just buzzing the cats for fun. Anyway, she leapt out from the fencepost, 7' off the ground, tackled a crow in midair and took it down to the ground. I ran over, being a kid and thinking it was awesome, and she just growled at me and carried the crow off in her jaws to the tall grass. The crow was still struggling, and the other crows were screaming at her. But they stayed away after that.
We would hear her outside in the alley getting her groove on with the neighbor cats, all yowling like crazy. My parents didn't have the money to fix her, so she kept getting pregnant. But she always ate her babies.
She got old and eldritch and terrible, and her eyes glowed like the coals of a crematorium. I guess her evil ways made her stronger. She took refuge in the crawlspace under the house. We would occasionally find a clump of feathers with some blood stuck to them, or part of a torn-open ribcage.
One day I witnessed her chase a possum out from under the car, down the alley, across the street, up a tree, and across to a fence before it leapt off the other side. There was just a steep ravine down there, so I guess it chose that over certain death at her claws.
She just walked away one day, never to be heard from again. Perhaps she haunts a crossroads, misleading travelers and stealing the souls of babies.
Author
Topic: Talk About Your Cannibal Pets (or Kids) (Read 1875 times)