I have another cat, but I don’t see her much because she is constantly hiding.  I call her Other Cat.

I understand that most cats have a nervous nature, but Other Cat behaves as if she were the sole survivor of some artillery-pocked WWI battlefield.

Any slight deviation from the norm will send Other Cat running for cover.

Minor rustling sound in the background = Kitty freak-out.

Anything that moves too fast = Kitty freak-out.

Slight change in barometric pressure = Kitty freak-out.

You get the idea.

Wife is the only thing that doesn’t seem to put Other Cat into a state of abject terror. Through means that I don’t fully understand, Wife equals happiness and safety for Other Cat. I, on the other hand, am treated like a kitty serial-killer. When Wife and I come home, we walk into the house and Other Cat is waiting. Wife usually enters first and Other Cat is happy.

Other Cat is content and safe. This is what I imagine Other Cat sees…

I walk in two seconds later and Other Cat is horrified. I have no idea what she sees, but it must be something close to this…

Other Cat’s world comes crashing down around her as I, The Dark One, enter the room. Other Cat flees and stays hidden for hours. This makes me feel terrible because I love animals. Until recently, I didn’t know why this happened.

I’ve thought about this pretty hard and I’ve come to the conclusion that Other Cat thinks I’m the Devil. This isn’t in a metaphorical or cheeky, fun type of way. Other Cat thinks I’m Satan. The reason for this is that Other Cat is an indoor cat. Her entire world is condensed to our house.

The population of the universe is Other Cat, Wife, me, and of course, Skittles. Skittles is a fat and terribly behaved cat, but she’s still a cat. Other Cat equates Skittles to the rest of the world’s kitty population; flawed, but mortal and redeemable. Now, Wife, being mostly nice to Other Cat, is seen as a Virgin Mary-type, saviour figure. This doesn’t leave me a lot of room on the theological scale. I, of course, fulfill the role of Lucifer to Other Cat.

Using the template of modern Christianity, the image of Wife and I entering the front door together becomes highly disturbing to Other Cat.  I assume she also finds our level of cooperation extremely distressing.

This is traumatic enough for Other Cat that her little kitty mind blocks out the experience shortly after it happens. This explains why she eagerly waits by the door the following day, completely oblivious to what’s about to happen. She’s doomed to relive the trauma five days a week or until she has a little kitty psychological meltdown.