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Cat Punishment

by Vicky Chapman, NSW, Australia

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I've often wondered what to do with a naughty cat. There are obviously levels of "naughty", where a quick "no!" with a clap of hands can usually do the trick, and is about equivalent to a quick squirt of water. The next level in seriousness is the "time-out", when you lock the cat in a room and ignore it for a while. My absolute last resort is the dreaded drenching, and Shmoggleberry has only had this a few times. The ex used to grab the poor beast by the scruff of the neck, turn on the shower full pelt with cold water and hold the cat under there. Shmoggleberry's howling and cries used to break my heart when he did that, and I'm so very glad, relieved, grateful etc, that I've left him. When I've had to do it, I've just stuck his paw under a tap and given him a human version of The Look.

It happened again, when Shmoggleberry wouldn't shut up, kept begging for food, and getting grossly underfoot. Joel decided it was drenching time. Now Joel hadn't done this before and I was dreading it because although my ex has been my ex for nearly 3 years, my memory of him hasn't been entirely erased. Although Joel has never done anything nastier to Shmoggleberry that trying to be the Alpha Male, I again had visions of animal cruelty. Instinctively I cried "No!" when Joel picked Shmoggleberry up and took him to the kitchen sink. "he's got to learn," said Joel, which put me in a terror because that's exactly what my ex said at these times too. I couldn't move or say anything more, and that little pit in my stomach had returned. Flashbacks came to me, unbidden, of a previous life, as I stood, watching Joel & Shmoggleberry, helpless with fear that it was all returning.

Joel turned on the tap. The cat struggled. I whimpered. Then Joel turned on the hot water tap and checked the temperature, picked up Shmoggleberry, put his paw into the stream of water, took it out again, and looked Shmoggleberry straight in the eye, noses touching. "Don't do it again," said Joel, put down Shmogg, grabbed the teatowel and dried the cat's paw.

Joel still doesn't quite understand why I was crying. I think mainly it was out of relief, but there were other things mixed in. Joel showed me once again that he is not a cruel person, and that my previous experience wasn't "normal", and that some men can be trusted. I think the other major emotion was of love - that Joel does actually love and care about Shmoggleberry- and I love him all the more for that.

Shmoggleberry was no worse for wear, but he did avoid the kitchen for the next hour or so, which meant Joel could get on with cooking dinner without the danger of squashing the cat. Its times like these that make doing the 9-5 drudge worth it.

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Editor's note:

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