The Cat from Hell!

To be honest, there have been 2 CFH, but one was in my care frequently which made the experience worse. When I met Kyle ( the name is changed to protect the owner), he was in his Mom's arms. She held him out, a large chocolate brown cat with long hair and beautiful green eyes. He let me pet him, and we continued the interview. Nothing unusual except that it was the tiniest Apt., I'd seen . Almost an efficiency, since you opened the front door into the bedroom. There was a small hall to the kitchen and a bathroom that opened into both rooms. That was it. The furniture was massive, so there was almost no room to move about. That first time I entered to care for Kyle, he was not immediately in sight. As I went down the short narrow hall to the kitchen I heard a shrill sound from behind. He was coming at me in a crouch, growling and hissing. I spoke quietly and well, tried to be calm and soothing. Forget it! He lashed at me every time I moved. Fast forward- 45 minutes later I was still in the Apt. I managed to get his food and water but now I was trapped in the small kitchen. He was in the kitchen and charged at me from under the table. If he was scared, well that was nothing compared to what he was doing to me. Finally, I saw a large magazine and held it in front of me, as a pathetic blind, to get him backing up. Another 10 minutes and I was finally out of there, exhausted. As I started down the outside stairs there was a sharp 'BANG' near my head and I almost tripped in fright. It was Kyle throwing himself at the window on the staircase. He was still trying to get to me!
Nothing changed, except that the owner finally had him declawed after he attacked a dinner guest coming out of the bathroom!
I tried to rationalize that the place was so small and the furniture so large, he had no place to go and was forced to protect his territory. So what! Every time I came it was the same. Launching himself off the chair at me, or from under the bed, just inches from the front door. I walked up those stairs with a knot in my gut. After trying many different types of distractions, pennies in a can, jangling my keys, etc., finally I fashioned a large cardboard screen that I kept in front of me as I went through his place.
His owner loved him, and was oblivious to the fact that she had gone through several sitters who told her the cat was the worst they had seen. I knew her experience but could not believe he was that bad. After that I was committed, knowing she would never be able to get anyone else, and I was too stubborn to be defeated. When she asked me to pick up the things that Kyle would knock off the dresser, we had a frank discussion about my role. There was no way I was going to bring my face near the floor with Kyle under the bed! This should do it-she would fire me! No way! She said, 'OK, no problem.' I took care of Kyle for more than 2 years. When his owner told me she was moving to Lubbock, I cried with joy!