Taz was abandoned when he was six weeks old outside a work source office. My former roommate saw him and asked me if I knew anyone who wanted a cat. I said I did, little did I know he was a demon in disguise. I found out that his former owners were not so kind to him. In just the first six weeks of his life he was abused and nearly eaten by dogs. It was a blessing that we came into each other's lives. I was single, and had a few friends but needed some companionship at home. I grew up with dogs and cats most of my life and knew what I was getting into, or so I thought. I left him alone to explore his new home and get comfortable. Once he felt safe, he crawled up on my chest and curled into a ball right under my chin and slept there for three hours. His inner "Calvin" started showing when he was about three months old by attacking any bare ankle(s) that passed by.
This little monster started to run over my head while I slept after his wake up calls weren't heard (or were ignored) because he thinks it's time for me to get up at 3:00 AM. If and when this fails he will jump up on top of the bathroom door and "cry for help" so I have to get up and save him, this is usually by 5:30 AM. Mind you I am only 5'5," the door is a good 6'0" or higher. This is not a "ritual" I want to keep up with. I started keeping the door closed.
In retaliation, he started jumping up and trying to hang onto my bedroom door frame like a koala bear. Trying to train him not to climb the door frame is like trying to teach a monkey to speak English. He jumps high and latches onto the door frame about two-thirds up and looks at me wide-eyed as he's clinging there, with my retort: "Get your ass down!" he slides down the frame then takes off, running all over our apartment (F*CK! I'm not getting that deposit back...) This happens about three to five times a day, every damn day.
If I am not paying attention to him while I'm sitting down he will stand on his hind legs, push a paw into my arm pit, wiggle it and then release the claws. I stare at him thinking to myself: "I want to punch you in the FACE!" however, I pick him up and love on him for a bit. I then pull out his favorite toy, a rope I made for him and wear him out so he'll leave me alone and I can get back to what I was doing, until he does something he shouldn't. I say "NO" and "Get down!" so many times a day my neighbors probably think I have tourette's. I swear he's possessed.
He holds a grudge too, if you make him mad he will get you back by running up and "tagging" you with his claws out, or he'll attack your arm, bite it, then run off. His favorite thing is when you just get out of the shower. He will climb into the tub and start licking the water off the sides, as if he's dying of thirst. When he's done with that he'll come find you to see if your legs are still wet so he can run his sandpaper tongue on them, scaring the hell out of you.
When he's not being a complete sh*t, he's actually very affectionate. Loves to cuddle, loves to be held and kissed on the top of his head. Even though he makes me angry nearly 50 times a day, I couldn't imagine my life without him. I was meant to adopt him and I will love him forever. I just wish he wasn't such a dick most of the time.
Phrases I never thought I'd have to utter to a cat:
"Stop licking me!"
"Don't play with your poop!"
"Stop attacking my butt!"
"Stop playing with your water, just drink it!"
"Why is your tail always wet!?" (Please don't be pee, please don't be pee!)