I’ve always had an itching hatred for commonly praised objects. I’ve always hated sushi. I’ve always hated Taylor Swift. I hate the beach. But most of all, I HATE cats. These vicious animals are owned by so many, yet I still choose to cross the street if I see a cat strutting towards me. Cats are the most terrifying animals on Earth.

     Maybe I went too harsh with the “on Earth,” but let’s look at the solid facts. The main competitors to cats in a household are dogs. They always say, “You’re either a cat person or a dog person,” right? 

     Dogs are the obvious choice. 

     Toby Savoy, a death investigator, said, “Cats, especially, will waste no time in eating their owners once they’ve died. Dogs will hold out until they have nothing to eat, but a cat will remove your head in 24 hours.” Yes, you read that right. Cats will be the first to feast on your decomposing body. I constantly hear cat owners claim that their pets “love” them and have a soft spot for them, as they drone away at their cat’s boring purrs and meows, but do you still love your precious cats knowing that they’d eat you mere hours after your death? 

     And no, they don’t care if you’ve been slaving away at your job to take care of their constant “accidents,” as vases shatter every other day, and carpets get stained by their ammonia. Cats have no real connection to their owners, as they have very primitive needs with no limits.      

     Not only are cats disloyal to their owners who continuously care for them, but cats also often show signs of aggression. Yes, this is personal. Throughout my 17 years of life, I have come across hundreds of cats, and not once have I left without a wound. Don’t try to proselytize me with your “he’s declawed and has never bitten anyone before” propaganda. I have fallen for that one too many times.

     This feline trauma began when I was only six. It was my birthday and my family had carefully chosen Moscow’s best Cossack restaurant for my celebration. I can still remember the fragrant onion and paprika caressing my nostrils as I walked up the brick steps. 

     A sudden wave of cold discomfort struck me as my gaze transfixed on two sapphire eyes. The cat’s eyes showed welcoming purity and innocence as it purred, swaying its elegant tail. My adolescent legs shuffled towards the then mesmerizing creature, her white fur seeming to glisten as her sweet nose perked up at my reaching hand. 

     Eager for her approval, I leaned in for a welcoming lick but received nothing of the sort. As I moved my palm towards her tiny head, the devil pounced—she dug her vicious fangs deep into my hand. My white shirt quickly bloomed with stains as the hungry claws seized my bare skin, leaving a trail of bloody scars in their wake. 

     Of course, the staff hustled to snatch the cat away. They hollered, “This has never happened before!” That’s what they all say. Over time, my friends have repeated this overused line multiple times as they lured me into gaining another “unexpected” injury from their “sweet” cats.

     To this day, cats still manage to nibble on my toes, sucking my blood like vampires. No matter what anyone tells you, trust me, don’t touch them. They have claws and fangs for a reason, so stay far, far away.