Artemisia the cat chases her tail. She catches it with her claws and teeth, and almost immediately becomes angry at whatever has made her hurt. Not understanding that it is her own face that did it, she resumes chasing that monster, her tail, with enhanced fervor. She attacks it with enthusiasm, and, shocked, she stops. She looks up, surprised at the pain, and in that time the tail monster has escaped. Artemisia regards it with renewed hatred and chases it again. She catches her tail and attacks it again, chases and attacks it again and again, with increasing savagery each time.
I intervene! I worry what will be the outcome of this series; I picture a trip to the vet, a bandaged tail, and a cone collar.
But sometimes I'm not quick enough, and I've been able to see the end of Artemisia's chase-bite-chase cycle.
Artemisia will jump up and tear across the house, bouncing off walls, running from room to room, eyes filled with terror.
Artemisia will run away from her tail.