Our first cat after we got married was a rescue that we named Diamond, after Sir Isaac Newton's dog by the same name. You know how people will form a special bond with a certain cat? Well Rob and Diamond that that kind of bond. Rob loves to pick on the cats and Diamond didn't like to be picked on. He took care of this pretty early on. Rob insisted on holding Diamond like a baby and rubbing his tummy. Diamond gently bit Rob on the chin and looked into his eyes as if to say, "Look, this time I didn't break skin. Next time I'll draw blood and you won't like it." Rob got the message and didn't bother Diamond again. The other cats were fair game, but Diamond had his own dignity and Rob didn't intrude on it.

Diamond was a hunter. He was stubborn, tenacious, and cunning. I'll never forget the time he ran a mouse up my pant leg where it danced around my crotch until I got the pants of and slam dunked them against the floor. Diamond didn't forgive me for over a week for letting his snack get away. I was just grateful that we didn't have any company at the time. I was good enough at embarrassing myself, I didn't need help from Diamond.

The night of the epic battle, Rob had come in from work around 10:30, exhausted and grouchy. He fell asleep while I reheated his dinner in the microwave, and again while he was eating. It was a Friday, and I knew that he would probably be called in to work on his day off, but hoped that he could get some decent rest. Diamond had different ideas.

Well, Rob went to sleep, and I washed his dishes and grabbed a soda to drink while I read in bed. I left the door to the bedroom open so that the cats could come and go as they pleased and settled down with a magazine and lit a cigarette. I was almost out, but figured that I would be able to get to sleep before I ran out. The kids were in their rooms, fast asleep and the cats were in their usual places sawing little kitty logs. All in all, a nice quiet evening.

Rob was snoring away, sleeping with one knee in the air like he does when he's stressed and exhausted. I've given up trying to get him to sleep like a normal person as he won't put his knees down no matter how much I nudge him. I just tucked the blankets around me and hoped that he wouldn't pull them off of me too badly. I had finished my soda and was getting ready to turn out the light when Diamond entered the room.

Diamond was in a bad mood for some reason. He stalked up to Rob's side of the bed and jumped onto the bed, landing on Rob's leg that was laying flat. The leg that was in the air suddenly swept to the side, knocking Diamond off of the bed. Diamond jumped back on the bed. Rob grabbed Diamond and flung him off of the bed. Diamond came back and jumped on the bed, but from the foot of it this time. Suddenly, Rob kicked down toward the foot of the bed and the cat flew off the end. I lit another cigarette and settled down to watch the action. I'm just smart enough to know not to get in the middle of an argument.

Diamond was not going to take no for an answer. He leapt onto the bed near Rob's face. Rob's hand shot out, grabbed Diamond by the scruff of the neck and flung him across the room, where he hit the wall, slid down and landed on his feet. Diamond came in for the attack again, this time coming up from the foot of the bed again. Rob grabbed him again and flung him against the wall where he bounced and landed in our closet, which I had left open because it squeaked and I hadn't wanted to wake Rob up by closing it. Diamond came in for the kill again. Rob was bleeding from his face and hands, but had not made any noise. I expected some potty mouth, but the battle was carried on in a sort of grim silence punctuated by an occasional grunt or oof.

During this silent and deadly battle, I had smoked the last cigarette in the pack, but I was not getting between Diamond and the wall. For all I knew, Rob could fling Diamond in my face and drag me into the battle against my will. I polished off the last of my soda and watched with baited breath to see what was next. Did I mention that Diamond was pig-headed? He had decided that he belonged in that bed, that he was going to get into that bed from Rob's side, and that Rob wasn't going to tell him different. Why Rob was battling him I don't know. We had never kept any of the cats from sleeping on the bed. We always figured that it was their bed and we were allowed to share it. I suspect that had Rob let Diamond climb into bed, he would have slept there for his usual 30 minutes to an hour then moved to a different sleeping spot. But Rob "told" him no and Diamond hated hearing no.

For the next fifteen minutes the battle raged in intent silence. Diamond jumped on the bed and Rob threw him off. Diamond dug his claws in and Rob donated blood. Rob threw Diamond against the wall and Diamond came back for more. Each time Diamond attacked, I found myself wondering how long it could and would go on. Rob's throws were getting weaker and Diamond's attacks were losing some of their zest. Finally, defeated for the moment, Diamond abruptly gave up and left the room. Rob's snores started again and I got up and slipped into the kitchen to get another soda and a new pack of cigarettes. There was no way I was going to sleep for a while.

The next morning, Rob asked me if I knew why he was covered with welts and scratches. He looked like he'd been drug bare naked through a bramble bush. I told him the about the battle of the bed and he didn't believe me at first. Then he looked down at his ankle where Diamond had just bit him in passing and said, "I'm sorry old boy. I guess you landed on something tender. I don't know any other reason I'd have thrown you off the bed." Turned out that Rob had slept through the whole attack and had defended himself in his sleep. No wonder there was no potty mouth. Diamond didn't forgive Rob for at least two to three weeks.

Copyright © Pam Shirk
June 5, 2000