And, this is how I got beat up by a 12 pound cat.

Arya was a two year old tuxedo adopted from the local shelter. He adaptation to my home seemed to be getting along pretty well. When a few weeks into her stay, a personality conflict developed with one of the humans (my father) who was not really a cat person. I was her owner, provider, favorite human, and the one she came to for comfort and attention.
One afternoon Arya seemed to be stalking my father. The evening began with her acting agitated and ended (or so I thought) with her hiding under my bed, where I fully expected her to stay and chill as she often did. i sad on top of said bed (bad move). Suddenly, she leaped on top of the bed and charged me, ears back, making screeching noises, etc. The cat chased me off the bed and across the room until I tripped over step stool, spraining my knee. This was when the witness to the incident, my mother, began suffering her fifth heart attack.
Outside the bedroom (I'm not sure how I managed to crawl out) I attempted to stand, my knee buckled underneath me and I fell. So, ambulance comes, picks the two of us up. We both end up in the same emergency room.
The next day, I'm out and on crutches. Mom becomes an admitted patient in the CICU, and Arya...back to being the same sweetheart she was before she was before she went nuts on me. She stayed the same for the next three days. The day before my mom is due to be released, a heated discussion issued mbetween my day and I about what to do with the cat. Voices were raised. Well, I should say "voice" was raised. HIS voice. And what happens is something cat experts call displaced aggression. The frightened cat goes on the attack, not against the one scaring her, but against me again. So I retreat out of the room, adrenaline allowing me to move for a few precious seconds without my crutches before my knee remembered that it was hurt.
I'm catless again. I had wanted to get Arya into a decent cat sanctuary where she could be acclimated to a home environment, and maybe have better luck with a new home in the future. It didn't happen. There was no time. She's back at the shelter. I'm still heartbroken, actually. My mom, she has a fear of cats now, which I want to find a way to cure. Her heart condition has been described as a "mystery" by her cardiologist. I ended up in physical therapy for my knee, so I can work.
This happened in January. My PT is ending this week. My knee isn't just like new yet. I know from experience how long knees take to heal. So, this short relationship with a cat has remained a dominant theme in my life for three months after it ended, and not something I wanted to discuss for a long time.