Mom’s Bark And Bite Are Both Pretty Bad

My mother owns a boxer that she picked up off the streets a few years ago; around the same time, my dad and I were living with her, and I adopted a cat. However, unbeknownst to me, this dog she picked up had serious issues when it came to smaller animals and chased my newly adopted cat right out of the house, snarling and barking the entire time. We managed to stop the dog, but we lost my cat down the street. Miraculously, she came back a week later, unharmed and only a little worse for wear. My mother tried to convince me that her dog was just a little excited and to bring my cat inside while the dog was loose in the house, but my dad and I staunchly refused. Eventually, my mother relented and took her dog out the back door on a leash, away from where my cat was hiding under the front porch, and I coaxed [Cat] inside to the back room where I could keep her safely away from [Dog]. For the next few weeks, my mother insisted on letting [Dog] into my room or [Cat] out into the living room so they could get “acquainted,” but I refused to do so. Eventually, my dad and I found another place to live and moved out.

Since it’s sort of relevant to the story, I should mention during that time my dad also had a boxer that had been around cats since she was a puppy and was very mild-natured and well-behaved around them. After we moved out, she and [Cat] got along swimmingly and constantly cuddled, played, etc.

Fast forward a few years later, during which time my mother is extremely pushy about bringing [Dog] over to play with my dad’s dog, “because she needs a playmate,” to the point that she bullies my dad into letting her in and forces me to constantly put up [Cat]. My mother insists [Dog] won’t hurt her, but there are several instances that make me believe otherwise. Finally, I put my foot down and I tell my mother that unless she leaves [Dog] at her house, she can’t come over. My mother tries to bully me about picking on [Dog], but when I refuse to relent, she stops coming by as often and leaves [Dog] in her car when she does.

Eventually, my dad wants to take a vacation way out of town and asks if I want to go. I say sure and we make plans. Everything’s in order… except for arrangements for the pets. We’ve chosen a poor time of year to make impromptu plans and can’t find a pet-sitter. Reluctantly, we finally accept that we’ll have to ask my mother if she can do it, as we can’t think of any alternatives, so I give her a call and tell her we need a sitter. She’s more than happy to do so, which we figured she would be, but given her history… 

I tell her, “Now, just to be clear, you are absolutely not to bring [Dog] to the house. I don’t want her near [Cat], and I don’t want to hear any ‘buts’ about it. Don’t bring her in the house.”

“You don’t have to tell me like I’m a child, [My Name],” my mother insists. “I would never bring [Dog] over! Honestly, I don’t know why you hate her so much; she wouldn’t hurt [Cat], but whatever.”

We argue a bit back and forth over the phone until I think we’ve reached an understanding. My dad and I go on our vacation, have a pleasant time, and come back a few days later. My mother is at the house when we come back, and when we come inside, [Dog] is in the house. Naturally, I am livid.

“I thought I told you not to bring that f****** dog in the house!” I yell.

“Don’t you swear at me!” says my mother. “I brought her over to introduce her to [Cat] and they’ve been getting along just fine, just like I told you they would!”

Now I’m both angry and scared, and I immediately start looking for [Cat] while my dad and mother have a shouting match in the living room. Eventually, my mother leaves in a huff with [Dog], and not much longer later I find my cat hiding under my bed. It takes a long time for me to coax her out — nearly an hour — and the stench of cat urine and feces is obvious; she’s been so scared she hasn’t come out to even use her litter box. And when she comes out, she beelines for the water bowl and drinks like she’s dying of thirst. I notice right away that her tail is scraggly and bloodied, and sure enough, it’s obvious she was bitten when I inspect it. It doesn’t look too severe and has scabbed over, but my dad calls the vet while I call my mother in tears. I scream and cuss her out for lying to me, disrespecting me, endangering my cat, and being negligent, etc. It’s not my proudest moment, but I am super upset. My mother proceeds to retaliate with how I should be grateful that she “volunteered” to take care of our pets, that I’m making a big deal over “one little love nip,” that [Cat] was poorly behaved, and a bunch of other bulls***. Finally, I tell her that she can f*** off, and that I refuse to speak to her until she gets rid of [Dog].

I haven’t heard from her since. We took my cat to the vet as soon as possible, and aside from some slight scarring, she’s perfectly fine. Though, since then, we’ve made sure to have plenty of options for pet-sitters on hand if we want to go on trips anymore!