Simba is my "attack kitten".  I call him that because he will attack just about everything that moves: paper.  Feet/ankles/toes.  Fingers/hands/wrists/arms.  Hair.  Bugs.  Mice.  Doesn't matter: as long as it moves, his ever-curious little paws will be busy.

Simba is a 12-week-old Maine Coon kitten.  Very active.  Very cute with his big, green eyes that don't miss a trick, fluffy, silken fur, bushy bottle brush tail, tall, erect ears that absorb each and every little sound.  So cute, but a pain in my butt!!

I got Simba for my birthday.  It was a gift from hubby-dear.  Guess my husband thought I needed a friend, so he got me this kitten, and Simba entered my life.

O, boy, did he EVER!!

I am saying this much: if he continues to use my ankles or my legs as his personal scratching post, he will lose his happy home!  I am tired of having my panty hose shred to ribbons (and my legs not far behind) and explaining to my co-workers how I got all these marks on my legs.  I always add: "Does anybody want a kitten?  Cheap??"

They always laugh, which annoys the fire out of me.  They think I am being funny when I am as serious as a heart attack.

Not only has Simba scratched me: he has also shredded the curtains, the couch, my bedspread, several of my good blouses, a pair of my dress slacks, my shoes, my hose, and even the dog's nose.  Poor Pinky, my little three-pound Yorkie, is terrified of Simba.  Every time she sees him, she runs in terror, yipping piteously. 

Simba is only a small kitten, but he is bigger than my Yorkie.

I am seriously thinking of considering putting out a sign on the front door: "Warning! Attack Kitten On Steroids"! 

If I have just one more incident with Simba and his neverending games, I just might end up feeding him to the Doberman next door!  (NOT really, but he WILL lose his happy home if I see to it!  I am beginning to dislike Simba more and more!!)