Beware of the Blanket Monster

Having a pet can be a welcome distraction from life as well as a therapeutic. We've got four cats here, and I can feel the amazing calming properties of all four of them as I wade through piles of hairballs, toys, spilled cat litter, and dander attacking my sinuses.

I suppose that's why we've got the Blanket Monster, too.

Now I'm not endorsing the captivity and use of monsters as household pets. Only certain species of creatures should ever be kept as pets. There's a limit to the domesticating skills of people, and there's just some creatures we cannot dominate and master to the point of safety and mutual benefit.

But a Blanket Monster? Well, it's not as if it was a child-eating python or neighbor-mauling leopard. Only dumbasses and throwbacks with a double-dose of hubris and stupidity think that they can capture and conquer those wild spirits. A Blanket Monster is a whole different breed of pet… you could say it's got the heart and soul of a person deep down in its wooly interior, and integrating it with the cats hasn't been much of a challenge at all.

If only the cats felt that way as well.
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Edloe wakes up, rolls off of her back on to her side, and leans over to sniff the strange creature. She has assumed that up until this point that she is the dominant alpha-cat, queen of the roost and nobody's going to boss her around. This odd interloper hiding under one of the blankets off of the bed isn't about to claim a single square inch of her turf.

"Reowr," she softly gurgles, still trying to roll over. She's topping the scales slightly over twenty pounds these days, and she's got the maneuverability of a shaggy pig. It takes her a kick or two to right herself, and she sniffs again at the edge of the creature.

The Blanket Monster inches back, and Edloe crawls forward on her large paws to get a better idea of what this thing is.


It smells a lot like Daddy. She's spent most of her life in peaceful slumber and gentle respect from other cats and humans, and has only recently come to grips with this stranger who's tried to tease and taunt and play with her at times. First the feathers tickling her whiskers as she naps on the chairs, now Blanket Monsters allowed loose on the carpet.

When will it ever end? she probably thinks.

The Blanket Monster makes a kissy-cat sound, which Edloe flattens her ears in confusion to. She meows again, this time one of her classic gentle warning-welcome meows before putting her ears back up. She reaches out slightly with a paw and…

The Blanket Monster strikes! Its edge lifts up slightly and it lurches forward to engulf Edloe! With a brief surprised mew, the cat that had once been on top of the hierarchy in the apartment is now nothing more than a tasty morsel in the gullet of the strange predator.

Edloe sniffs around, not sure how to handle her new situation. She grimaces at the inner guts of her captor, sniffs around, and tries to waddle around for a better view.

She sees a gap at the edge of the Blanket Monster. She sniffs at it. With a poke of her snout, she crawls under the lip of the Blanket Monster, meows once in distaste, slaps her tail against the innards of the creature, and saunters off.

The Blanket Monster reels in the reek of cat-butt, and it retreats. "Yuck," it whispers, thinking it's time for the vet to shave that area where Edloe can't quite reach anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Don't try to convince Piper that the Blanket Monster is a good addition to the family, because she's been fending off Blanket Monster attacks for most of her life. Calmly minding her own business while nibbling at the dry-food bowl, and notices movement by the chairs.

"brrrrRRRRRRRR?" she inquires, a trill of an escalating meow. She stops eating for a moment and casually lopes over to the edge of the blanket.

The blanket doesn't move.

This must be a safe blanket, she thinks. The Blanket Monster can be any blanket at any time when the spirit of Blanket Monsterness enters it, but this time the blanket just lies there, inert. Her ears go down slightly, her eyes relax slightly, and she climbs on top of the blanket's edge.

Piper is a blanket-chewer, reverting back to kitten-like behavior as she paws and kneads at the blanket. She purrs slightly as she does this, feeling safe and content in the warm embrace of the fabric.

The blanket stirs slightly, irritated at the sharpness of her claws. Piper slows the kneading for a moment, and then resumes. She pecks at the blanket with her mouth, trying to find a better spot to grab on to and suck at the fabric. She is quite fond of blankets, especially those that smell like her daddy. Why should this blanket be any different?

The once-dormant Blanket Monster gives a shrill off-tone whistle, perking up Piper's ears. It strikes, whipping around the tiny cat and engulfing her. Piper barely has a moment to let loose a peeping shriek, and she is gone.

Piper pokes around for an opportunity to escape. She is not amused by her captivity, and growls and swats at her tail. She spins like a dervish, hissing and shrieking. She then plops down on her haunches and waits impatiently for release.

An edge peeks up. Piper sniffs. The edge is snapped back down, and the anger resumes.

Piper eventually wins her escape and runs off to hide well out of range from Blanket Monster attacks.

The Blanket Monster prods about its interior and finds the Piper-spit wet spot on its pelt. "Yuck," it mumbles. It will most certainly have to go in the wash after a few rounds of Piper-chewings.

It slithers off, heading for the laundry pile.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Nardo is naturally a suspicious cat, always on alert despite his bumblepuppy playful nature. His incorporation into the family wasn't an easy one, and he still gets grief from Edloe when she thinks he is horning in on her territory. Things are cooling off for the most part, but she'll still stalk and bitch at him now and then.

Nardo's ears are constantly in motion when there's a potential aggressor, even while asleep, and he's got one sneaking up on him as slow as molasses.

The Blanket Monster raises up to spot its prey.

Nardo is there, his smooth orange tail twitching its tip and his gold eyes wide in consternation. He flexes his overly-large paws and waits. Even though he likes to play, chasing after thrown toys and gnawing at feathers on strings, he isn't much of a lapcat and only likes to rough and tumble on his own terms.

The tail twitches and thumps louder. He slides against the wall, and rolls on his back.

The Blanket Monster slides closer, but Nardo inches back along the wall. The Blanket Monster stops. Within the blanket, a shudder and the blanket pulls back.

Nardo's a wily one. He's not easy prey for anyone or anything, not even Edloe. After two trips to the vet early-on, he hasn't taken a single scratch for his troubles knowing what his environment holds in store for him. He can inch at a creep, silent and on the defensive, and trapping him takes a lot of concentration and skill.

"NaaaaaAAAaaaaard," bleats the Blanket Monster.

Nardo steps away from the wall, the tip of his tail now just wibbling slightly. "Maow?" he asks.

The ends of the front flap of the Blanket Monster tense up, and it snaps forward to grab Nardo in mid-leap. He is quickly entangled in the blanket, snarling and yeowling and twisting in a fury.

He stops all of the sudden, and lets out two meow-bleats.

The Blanket Monster feels Nardo for a moment. He purrs. He's fine.

The Blanket Monster unfurls and lets Nardo loose. He rolls out like a sack of potatoes, and finds his feet. He arches his back, turns back to the Blanket Monster, and just stands there staring at it.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Frisky is a curious beast, but we all know what curiosity did to the cat. The old saying holds true in this case, as the fluffy orange timid little cat slowly approaches the Blanket Monster.

Perhaps it is the smell of cat treats that has enticed Frisky to investigate this arch-nemesis of Feline Kind. The Blanket Monster has many resources by which to ensnare its prey, using treats, toys, and gentle sounds and cat-calls to lure its favorite meal within range of a strike.

He bats at the edge of the creature with a fluffy white-tipped paw. The Blanket Monster extends a pair of hands to reach for Frisky, and he decides to go on the attack. Frisky bats at the hands and chews on them, but resistance is to no avail and he's flopped on his back and slid into the guts of the Blanket Monster.

After a few moments of struggle, Frisky is released and he explores the interior of the Blanket Monster. He sniffs around, and he crawls slowly through its guts looking for somewhere to sneak out from under this hideous prison of fabric and stitches.

Frisky then fluffs his tail and curls up. He purrs, deciding this is a good a spot as any to camp out. Anywhere away from Nardo, his oppressor, must be a good place, he figures.

The Blanket Monster is outraged! He is a fierce predator of cats, not safe haven from their inter-feline squabbles! He wrestles with Frisky for a bit, and the batting, clawing, and chewing resume.

Finally, Frisky starts to growl and meow, and the play-fight escalates…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"What are you doing?" my wife says. She's standing over the Blanket Monster.

"Rrrrrrrrrrrr," says the Blanket Monster, batting around Frisky in its blankety interior.

My wife shrugs. "Put the blanket back on the bed when you're done with it, dear. I'm going to work." She reaches for her purse and opens the door. "Be good, little ones," she tells the cats.

The Blanket Monster disgorges Frisky for a brief moment, he looks up at my wife almost begging for release from his mentally-disturbed daddy with the blanket over his head, and he's quickly resorbed back into the creature.

Sated, the Blanket Monster flumps off to digest and tickle its prey in a dark, dank corner.

[poseidon]

I have a Blanket Monster. It's called a cocker spaniel. He not only steals blankets, but he'll also kick you off the bed. He does that by slowly stretching so that you naturally move over in your sleep, and eventually he's got you off the bed.

Solution? I bought a bigger bed.

I should have put this in the Articles queue, should I? *shrug* Oh well.

[emeleel]

Whew! Methinks that, no matter how hilarious this one may be, this article will NOT get passed along to hubby - he gets enough ideas about torturing the Missy Cat as it is!