Blood. Guts. Horror.

I need the fucking cat whisperer.

I should have learned a long time ago that getting between fighting animals is a bad idea.

The animals are usually fine.

It's only me that takes a beating.

I remember once, a frantic feline attacked my old loving dog 'Bear' who passed on into doggy heaven quite some time ago.

He was a cat lover, but that didn't matter to this mentally deranged mouser.

This flipped out cat ran across the street to give my dog the beat down just for being on his block.

He wound up hanging from all kitty paw fours, around the long hair fuzz that graciously hung from Bear's barrel chest.

My Dearly Departed Gypsy was barking and did her best to nip at the lunatic cat, however, she was a bit afraid of cats, so this didn't really make an impact on the situation.

I made a bad choice in deciding to try to help out, and in the mess of things, I dislocated my knee.

I hobbled and sobbed all the way home, while my dogs just went on sniffing flowers like nothing had happened.

Well.

We've now got this 'issue' with the cats.

Psycho Kitty and The Bastard Prince have NEVER gotten along.

One of them has to give in, and it is just not happening.

They're both Tomcats.

They're both used to being the head honcho in their space and block of land.

They're both trying to kill each other.

I tried a few suggestions given to me for socializing attempts.

1) Let them sniff each other under a closed door to let them figure out who's the boss.

2) Smear the 'happy gland' scent from the side of their mouths on to a rag, and place it near their watering bowl.

Apparently, they're supposed to figure it out this way.

Fuck no.

Psycho Kitty would just stalk them from each window, leaving a little shit gem when he'd had enough of the fun tormenting my cats.

Now?

We're all having to live in the same space and it's just not working.

Today, all I tried to do was sweetly coax Psycho Kitty into leaving The Bastard Prince's area to leave him be.

They were both singing the Tom Cat Operetta, making horrid noises that sounded like someone was squeezing them to death.

Can you guess what happened next?

Yup.

I got attacked.

My fingers have punctures in them that I thought would never stop bleeding.

Again, nobody got hurt but me.

Not sure when I'll learn, but it's just so hard for me to sit back and let them get scar after scar, blood lines along their noses, scabs on their ears that look like kitty zits, and fur from one end of the house to the other.

There are literally patches of fur missing on both of them.

I need the cat whisperer.

Papi said not to bother wasting my money, but when my next itty bitty payment comes from Long Term Disability, I'm doing it.

I am desperate and have no idea what to do next.

I'd like them both alive when we get to the Dominican Republic.

i am a true friend