My Least Favorite Thing

This cat wants me dead.

If you know me, you know I am not an animal lover. A trip to the zoo, for me, is roughly on par with the Spanish Inquisition. I’d rather be force fed my own eyeballs than pay actual money to view the beasts. I don’t think animals should be tortured or killed wantonly, but I also feel that unless an animal can be eaten or worn they’re pretty much useless. I know, I KNOW! You’re saying, “My pet is like my child except it loves me unconditionally”. Don’t waste your breath. I do not understand the bond people have with animals. I’ve never experienced it and have no desire to.

I dream of killing you in your
sleep and eating the fleshy parts of your
face.

Where does this dislike of all things furry, feathered, scaled, or skinned come from? Fear. I am terrified of animals. As a child my family had dogs, lizards, snakes, fish, chickens, ducks, and the world’s sluttiest cat for pets. All our pets were good pets. I have no basis for this life long fear. I just don’t like animals. Most animals can sense that I don’t like them and keep their distance. Or they try to make friends. It never works. Then there are the few who feel the need to eliminate me from the food chain. 

The place where avian on human
hate crimes were ignored.

I worked for the Ritz-Carlton in Half Moon Bay, California. One day, as I’m walking into the hotel through the employee entrance, I am dive bombed by two hostile birds. They had nested in the rafters of the loading dock approximately 652 feet above my head and decided that I was a threat to their newborn chicks. You know, because I have super jumping powers and a taste for barn swallow. The birds actually claw and peck at my head before I get inside. I run into Human Resources to complain about my hostile work environment. The HR lady looks at me like I’m crazy so I decide to show her the murderous birds. We walk outside and….nothing. The birds stay in their freaking nests saying, “What? We didn’t do anything. She’s just a delusional animal hater.” The HR rep rolls her eyes and we walk back inside. Just as I walk through the door I turn to see the bird’s eyes turn blood red while they do that slicing motion across their throats with a wing. When I walk out with a few other employees that night the birds stay in their nests further cementing my status as the resident nut job. The next day they attack again. Again when I take the HR lady out they stay inside their nests. Just as HR is fitting me for a strait jacket, a guy on the janitorial staff walks through the door with blood flowing into his eyes. The birds had gone all Alfred Hitchcock on him. He had to get stitches. HR feeling stupid, calls an exterminator to get rid of the family of demon spawn. The guy who came to rid the hotel of a horror not even Stephen King could imagine came away from the battle covered in cuts and needing 12 stitches. AND YOU WONDER WHY I FEAR ANIMALS.

I know it's just a Yorky,
but he's trying to kill me.

This doesn’t mean I think people who own pets are ridiculous. I understand that I am in the minority. I won’t tell you to get rid of your pet or lock him away when I come over. But, if your dog barks at me or tries to lick me you’ll be handling me in full blown panic attack mode. Curled up on the floor, fetal position, years of therapy panic attack mode.