No, it wouldn’t be. He’s the perfect size for prey, after all, and cats are fast bastards. It may come up in the future, it may not. I do have little drabbles around the idea floating around, of course.
A rumbling growl came from behind Sam, giving him seconds to react before a large paw swiped through where he’d been standing. With a cry, Sam dove to the side. His knife was out in an instant, falling naturally into the defensive grip Dean had shown him. Surprised hazel eyes took in the sight of the massive tabby cat that was stalking him.
Sam shivered at the hungry stare in its eyes as he backed away. The cat recovered from its miss, crouching down and preparing to pounce.
“Crap,” Sam muttered. The one time Dean was out of sight.
This time, the paw slammed right into him. He rolled across the floor, his jacket with four slashes down the side. Biting pain hit, and he knew he was bleeding. Before the cat could finish him off, he finished his roll and stumbled behind the cabinet along the wall. He barely made it far enough back that the cat couldn’t reach him. The paw scrapped threateningly along the ground as it tried to finish off its kill.