I heard noises in the patio and on investigation found two girls (approx age 8) talking to the kittens through the open, front screen door. They were selling lollies to make money for their school trip but could they please come in and pat the kittens.

The girls came in and oohed and aahhed over the kitties. Then Bonnie spoiled the party by racing up Girl One's bare leg. "Ooohhhhhh," screamed Girl One, "it scratched me!" I snatched Bonnie off her leg while Girl One examined some spots of blood on her thigh.

"It'll be fine," I soothed nervously, scurrying to the bathroom cabinet for cotton wool and disinfectant. No sooner had I ministered to Girl One when there was a scream from Girl Two. "Ooooh," she cried "it bit my toe, Ohhhhhhh".

I stared at the toe sticking out of the sandal. Sure enough, blood was oozing from it and Bonnie was all set to give the tasty morsel another going over. I locked the kitties in the kitchen and got more cotton wool and more disinfectant. The subdued girls were let out the front door, worse for wear.

I began to think - would the wounds get infected and would indignant mothers be after me, breathing fire and demanding the kitties be impounded? Would I have to spirit the Attack Kitties out of town the way people do with 'people biting dogs' - then I could deny all knowledge of them. "What kitties," I imagined myself saying "the girls must have made up a story"." Or perhaps I could say that the kitties got out and mysteriously vanished! Watch this space.

Copyright © Beverley Dunlop
February 16, 2003