My cat is indoor only now

Burying the neighbors chihuahua was one thing, but it’s getting to be too much now. Don’t get me wrong, Nurgle is the sweetest cat in the whole world in every other regard.

Whenever I have my friends over she purrs and rubs up to them and never bites. Her and our geriatric tabby Magenta got along really well before her poor little heart gave out.

I even found it slightly cute when she’d show up with a live chipmunk every now and then. But then she came home one day with a huge gash in her side.

I put her in her cat carrier and put her in the
passenger seat of my ford fusion and took off to the vet. She didn’t act too hurt, but the deep gouge in her furry grey side was black with clotted blood, and I didn’t need her getting a huge infection in her tiny six pound body.

The vet took her in immediately and examined the wound. She told me it was scabbed over pretty well and gave her antibiotics and a cone to keep her from licking the wound and some painkillers.

After that she seemed more eager to get out, and she started coming home later than usual. Sometimes she’d come scratching at the door at two in the morning with blood all over her paws and muzzle. I’d give her baths and then I’d get a little squeamish every time she’d make biscuits on me for the next few days.

She started bringing back dead animals nearly every day. I’d sometimes wake up with a dozen disemboweled chipmunks and squirrels in my back yard and I’d have to grab a trash bag and peel them off of the grass.

I’d grown complacent to the immense amount of death. That was until I found a brutally maimed chihuahua in my back yard, still yipping for help.
I knew that dog very well.

My middle aged neighbor Cathleen would take her two chihuahuas out In her front yard when she went out gardening. They’d chase the neighbors from across the street and I was just waiting for the day one of them would get itself hit by a car.

I felt bad for Cathleen, she was a nice woman, but I knew how it would turn out if she found out Nurgle had murdered her cute little dog. So I went to the shed, got a shovel, and put the poor dog out of its misery.

That was only the first of many dog graves in my back yard. Her bloodlust only escalated from there. Cathleen stopped letting her dogs out unattended from then on, so Nurgle found other dogs in the neighborhood.

I didn’t let her out, but somehow she’d get out anyway. I even took extra care when I left to not let her out with me. I had to start locking the windows when she figured out she could pry them open.

Even that didn’t stop her from escaping. One day I found a full grown German shepherd she had somehow dragged from somewhere. She’d managed to get to his throat and tear it open.

She’d brought mortally wounded strays to the house in such a regular basis I didn’t even bother putting the shovel away, I just kept it on the back porch.
Eventually I found out some of the windows I’d locked had been unlocked somehow, so I nailed them shut. Then I learned she wasn’t the only one who wanted her out of the house.

I was getting ready for bed the other night, when I heard a crash in the other room. There was a rock on the floor. Roughly scrawled on the floor was a simple message of three words inscribed on the floor in charcoal: LET HER OUT.

It seemed like an insane thing to do, but I went to the hardware store and got some boards. I boarded the windows shut. I didn’t know what else to do.

This morning I heard the unmistakable shrill scream of a woman I scrambled to find Nurgle, but she wasn’t inside. I felt a bowling ball materialize in My stomach when I realized she was outside. By the time I made it to the backyard Cathleen was already dead.

It’s currently mid afternoon as I’m writing this. It took hours to dig a hole deep enough for Cathleen. I can’t imagine how much longer it would’ve taken for someone tall or especially large.

Nurgle is currently sat In my lap, making biscuits with her blood blackened paws. I don’t know what to do. I can’t let her out anymore but I don’t know if I can stop her. What do I do?