I have a routine when I feed the cats: put their food down, then freshen each water bowl in the bathroom. You LOVE the cats, and you like to watch them dart around my legs and crouch at their bowls while I do this. You are starting to learn how to pet them gently, but you still get very excited and forget sometimes. This was one of those times.
While at the sink, I could hear Tybalt meowing, even though I’d already put his food out. Then it turned to growling and I came running.
“No, no, no! NO, Peanut! NOOOOO!!”
At first I only saw that you had grabbed his fur again (it came out in chunks when you finally let go). But just before I “helped” you disengage, I realized that you had actually picked him up in a sort of modified mama cat scruff-carry. Each of your tiny fists had grasped folds of his skin, one just in front of his shoulder, and the other on his flank behind it.
I thank and praise God that Tybalt did not bite you. The noises he was making clearly told me he was angry. He once bit me, and it was quite an ordeal. I was terrified the same might happen to you. Maybe he was giving you extra warnings since you’re still a baby. Maybe you were holding him in just the right way – the tiger by the tail, so to speak. But I don’t think we’ll be letting you out of our sight again around him for even a minute until this grabby phase has passed.