When I was 5-years-old, I used to harass my stepmother's cat. Pull on its tail, chase it around, etc. Eventually, he fought back and we began an epic battle that spanned decades. It peaked when he pooped in my room and in a fit of rage, I took a super soaker to his back side 'till he could take no more.
Unfortunately, he got dementia and had all kinds of organ failures the other year, and eventually died. Prior to that, either due to the dementia (probably) or the fact that he wanted to make peace with his lifelong enemy (me!) before the inevitable, he warmed up to me and we were buddies.