When I was about 11, my brother and I found a kitten next to a dumpster at our local strip mall. He was about 9 or so. Anyway, we took him home and showed it to our mom, to which she replied with the typical womanly response of "daawww so cute!". But then responded with the typical mom-ly response of "if you want to keep if you will have to take care of it, feed it and definitely give it a bath."

Sure enough, we agree. We put the kitten in a box and we head out to our local pet store to get some flea medication and shampoo. My brother and I were excited. We decided to name him "Zeus".

Once we got home, we took the kitten to the back yard to bathe him. Mom went to the kitchen to do mom things. "Be careful and be gentle, cats don't like water too much," she said as she walked away. We ready everything. Shampoo, towel, warm water, a big wide bucket and the kitten. Everything was going well. My brother kneels down to place the kitten in the bucket. I tell him to hold him so he doesn't run away when I pour water on him.

I began to pour the water.

The cat was seemingly ok. His paws were starting to get wet and saturated. He lost his shit. My little brother held him in place as the kitten started to buck back and forth and try to dodge his 9 year old hands. "Hold him!" I yell as I continue to pour the water. Now (as an adult) I know that kittens are elusive and can pretty much mold themselves out of any situation. At 11, I was just a big brother telling his wimpy little brother what to do and didn't realize what was about to happen.

He tries to hold him down tighter, but because he was not strong enough, the kitten got jumped up with the force of a soon to be tiger.

Have you ever felt the tiny needle like claws of a tiny and cute baby kitten? Well if you ask my brother (a now three tour Iraq veteran of the US Army), the front claws feel like serrated Rambo daggers as they clench onto your throat. As the tiny tiger holds on with its death grip, its hind legs tear your 9 year old chest with the same motion a tree mulcher does to a California oak tree.

As I'm watching the kitten destroy my brothers chest, I jump up and do the what all of you would have done

"MMMMMOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!"

Our mother came and reacted. She didn't scream and she didn't seem to be scared. As a now parent of a 5 year old, I'm sure she was scared to death, but didn't show it. She calmed both our brother and I down and placed a firm grip on the back of its neck. The kitten stopped its mauling of my brother and my mom was able to remove him from his chest and neck, claw by claw.

We didn't go to the emergency room. Instead my mom dressed my brothers wounds (as you guys would say) "like a baus". The cat remained in our family for 5 years. We loved it quite a bit. It reached its untimely demise when it met face first with a michelin 255/45/16 of a passing mercedes.

TL;DR: my 11 year old self and 9 year old little brother found a kitten behind a dumpster. Took it home to bathe it. Said kitten mauled my brothers chest after lashing to his throat with its tiny needle like claws.