So, I was brushing up on some Buffy lyrics this evening (eek!), when it occurred to me that my cat might be a Vengeance Demon.
Behold the eerie parallels:
Anya Jenkins had nasty ways of getting even--that was actually her job for about 1000 years. My cat has nasty ways of getting even--she jumps all over and beats up our other kitty when she doesn't get her way.
Anya could be calculating and strategic (such a good capitalist actually). My cat always has a knowing glint in her eyes as she contemplates lesser beings than herself.
Anya did not like being overshadowed by anyone. My cat will wave her fluff-filled furry behind in your face until you acknowledge her superiority. She especially does this when she senses the other cat getting attention, love, food, air, etc.
Anya was overly concerned with her hair. My cat has the softest, most luxurious fur ever produced by a cat and HATES to be touched. Seriously. There are rules.
But here is the clincher: Anya loathed and feared bunnies above all other creatures in the known universe. And here is my cat's full name--she was named, mind you, YEARS before we ever saw one Buffy episode: Most Exalted and Noble Rhombus Khan the Mighty, Eater of Bugs, Hunter of Snakes, Eradicator of All Things Evil, Except for Bunnies From Which She Flees.
Rhombus for short. As you might imagine, her name evolved over time. We started out with a short "Rhombus Khan" and then as the years went by, Rhombus decided to reveal to us the other parts of her name. Really, we had little to do with it.
I'm not sure I remember just what caused Anya to tremble so upon seeing a bunny's hoppy little legs and twitchy little nose. Maybe we were never told.
Ah, but poor Rhombus! Our 11 pound catnip junkie was terrorized every day for 7 months by a 3 pound rabbit. This was years ago. The bunny, Buttercup (aka He Who Twitcheth and Leaveth a Trail of Poop Wheresoe'er He Goeth), came to live with us when his family took an extended round-the-world-trip. This bunny could not have been more cute, cuddly, or adorable. Naturally both cats were petrified.
Despite her fear, Rhombus just could not stay away from the bunny. (The other kitty has always been wiser in matters of personal security.) She couldn't resist going up to his room (the doorway was blocked with a baby gate--before we had babies) to stare at him and try to smell up all his delicious bunny smells. Inevitably Buttercup would notice the cat, dash toward the baby gate at top speed--I do think he just wanted a friend--and Rhombus would jump away so quickly that often up to 3 pounds of jettisoned fur floating softly in the air was all that remained, a calling card of sorts.
But seriously--don't you think I might be living with a Vengeance Demon?