I’ve written about this particular cat before, she was the devil incarnate. There are two types of people in the world; one’s that like cats and ones that don’t. Now while Beau is the reason that those who like cats do, Rockie was the reason why those who don’t like cats, don’t. But her being a genuine bona fide bitch has nothing to do with why I ran her over.
Her name was Rockie II. The first cat we had we named Rockie because he took off everywhere like a rocket, we called the second cat we got (after the original Rockie was no more) yes, that’s right…Rockie II and it’s a wonder that I even brought her home in the first place.
I found her in a pet shop, and when I put my finger in the cage expecting her to come over and rub up against it, she instead, hissed, slashed at it with her claws and tried to bite me. Now while this was cute in a kitty, it’s not so good in an adult, and her nature never changed from that first encounter. So while she was a fairly pretty little cat, her nature was really ugly, but again, that’s not why I ran her over.
Yet even though she was a vicious, emotionally stunted cat, she used to do cute things. One of which we called the ‘Rockie roll’. Whenever you got near her she would roll over on her back and look all sweet, but if you followed your natural instinct and attempted to scratch her belly, you would end up with shredded fingers. And yes, that’s why I ran her over…
One Saturday morning, I was going to my parent’s place for coffee (this was before they were cremated), and as I was backing down the driveway, I felt a bump. Getting out and looking around I couldn’t see anything, so I blithely continued on my way. But when I got there, I couldn’t shake feeling that the ‘bump’ wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, so I called MDW and asked her to check on the cat. She called me back ten minutes later to tell me that while she didn’t find the cat, she did find a pretty big chunk of her fur embedded in the concrete driveway. I headed home straight away.
By the time I got there, she had located her under the house, but couldn’t get her out, so I had to crawl in and get her. Turns out that she was doing a Rockie roll on the driveway just behind my car. I ran over her stomach, dislocating her pelvis. We took her to the out of hours vet (read ha ha ha, we now own your house, expensive emergency vet), where they patched her up and popped her back legs back in. She had a huge haematoma in her stomach that had a drip tube stiched into it to allow it to drain, and unfortunately after about 2 months, she was as good as new. She then went on to torment us for another twelve years.