All shitting aside, Churchis scared the beejebuz out of me today. So he's been sick, right? And because of his refusal to eat (he had a sore throat and didn't want to swallow), he became extremely emaciated.

02:03 Hrs. See, prime example, just now. I've had my cat, Beasters, for about twelve years now. Raised her from a bottle because the neighbor's dogs killed her mother and litter mates. She's usually a very sweet cat, if a bit sneaky. Case in point: I have my sick rooster in my room with me (she's in my room with me), but he's in a carrier so I can keep him still and control his movement. Don't want him burning through what little energy he has. I'm feeding him approximately every hour, and obviously need to open the carrier door whenever I do. He's eating, she comes over to sniff. I allow it; they are both still as they regard each other. Beasters steps back, then fakes a lunge/pounce towards Churchis. I instantly grab her by the scuff of the neck and scold her. "If you so much as think of hurting my chicken, I'll wring your fucking neck," I hear myself half-growl, half-hiss at her. Beasters bares her tiny, pointy teeth. I snarl in return. We have a staring contest for a few minutes before she flicks her eyes away for a second and I release her. She runs under my bed.

Now, it's not that I spoke harshly to my cat that surprised even myself. I talk smack to my animals all the time, including the rooster, partly because I know they can't understand my exact words. The most common nicknames I use for any one of them are "Puto" and "Cabrón," or "Ojete," all profanities in Spanish. No, what stunned me was the fact that I meant what I said to my cat. I would wring her neck if she hurt my Churchis. Twelve. Years. I've had her for TWELVE YEARS. Churchis barely had his first birthday this past August. And okay, I raised both from a very young age (Churchis was probably a week old when I got him.), but Churchis is an asshole chicken that's made me bleed twice, while Beasters is an old sweetheart. She deserves better than me, the poor thing. Honestly, I don't even think she really wanted to hurt him. She was just jealous that I was feeding him some carrot and pea baby food and she wanted some. My poor Beasty-Beast-Mia-Meow.