I want to kill my cat

The road to hell, they say, is paved with good intentions. And so was the road to Eric.

Eric is our cat. My wife and I rescued him from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home in July 2008: two wide-eyed ‘parents’, excited about giving a young life a fresh start. Two years on, I want him dead. In fact, unbeknown to my wife, I have just asked the vet if he will put him down.

Don’t get me wrong, I love animals — and I believe Battersea is a noble enterprise. But although Eric appeared initially to be shy and gentle, he has grown into a monster. He deserves an asbo. Several of them. In fact, with his prosthetic limb — more of which later — he’s become a peg-legged pirate rampaging through our lives, a walking refutation of the idea that animals are essentially good.

It started smoothly enough. Perhaps they had him on Valium.