It was 1 am and I was awoken from a dead sleep by the sound of what could only have been a feral animal ripping and tearing through our house. I heard the animal running, accompanied by frenzied hisses. The animal was moving so fast (or was so small) I could not see it. My sleep addled brain was trying to think of what animal could be making this ruckus. A squirrel? A raccoon? A snake, wait, they do not have feet, ok, um, a mongoose (cut me some slack it was 1 am). Did that evil bat come back? What in the name of all that was holy was going on?
I woke up Hubby, as the animal was now in our bedroom. He did not hear or see anything, and I am sure he thought me crazy. He got up to go tinkle, and the creature darted into the spare room. By now, Dex is flipping out. I creep downstairs to calm him, as Hubby investigates the spare room. I am almost at the bottom of the steps when Hubby lets out a "Holy $#!T" and I dive onto the couch, fearful of what creature (a lorax perhaps) may be trying to eat my feet once it finishes off Hubby. "WHAT IS IT" I cry out. Hubby yells "It was just Nora. But she darted out so fast it scared me. And something is wrong. She is growling".
Nora. The house had been turned caddywumpus by my little ole kitty? Impossible!
Sure enough, I creep upstairs, and she had lept out at Hubby and stopped so abruptly she left skid marks in the carpet (thankfully, they were the kind left by her nails, not her butt).
At this point she was back in our room, and hissing like a cobra. There was no way any of us were getting back to sleep until we figured out what turned her into the spawn of Satan.
I sit on the floor and try to get a look at her. She darts out from under the bed, into the corner, hisses, then runs back under the bed. I get her over to the side of the bed, and calmly start talking to her. I reach my hand out slowly, and she sniffed it, which was a good sign, so I attempt to pet her. She responded warmly, and started to come out from under the bed. Once she had completely emerged, I immediately saw that the problem was.
A plastic sleeve that had been used to house something, probably something I purchased, that had been secured with tape, had somehow gotten stuck to her tail. Probably because she had gotten into a trashcan. So all this fuss was over a 3 inch piece of plastic packaging and a 1 inch section of tape. I removed the offender and Nora sank into my arms like she had survived a war. I began petting her, and she started purring louder than I have ever heard her purr. If that cat could talk, she would have said thank you, I am certain of it.
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