Waffle bites. No, it's not a new Eggo treat, it's the cat.

Waffle was born on the street, grew up a tough little kitty, and was rescued by the animal shelter. On my birthday we went to pick out a kitten for me.  She was the biggest kitty there, which we needed because we have two big dogs. Rosie, one of the dogs, still stares at her like she was a real waffle.  We brought her home, and the first week we discovered she had a thing for toes under blankets late at night. My first day of school I was exhausted because all night I'd been kept awake by Waffle, gnawing on my toes, and doing this thing where, when she had my toes, she would start trying to dig into them with her back feet.

Now that she's older, she terrorizes her grampa kitty, Peachy Lee, who is extremely thin because Waffle is starving him. We're trying to get him to eat, but it's like she's threatened to cut him if he does. Whenever someone new comes to the house, she sniffs them, hides, and waits until they are relaxed before she attacks. She will bite anything that even resembles her pink comb--she hates that comb. She thinks she's the queen, and she even has a rhinestone collar, which we had to take away, because the sound of that collar clinking would freak Peachy Lee out.

When you pet the Waffle Queen, she will bite your fingers to death. One time she scratched me so hard I have scars. We try to keep her claws trimmed, but we are only unworthy human slaves, incapable of remembering when to clip Waffle Queen's royal nails.