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Household perils
Jun. 15th, 2005 11:37 pmUm. Ow.
I got attacked by my cat this fine evening.
He was sitting by the cracked window, like he does, when along came this sleek little tabby outside.
I knew it was trouble, because he has this horrible yowl, and he bristles and it's just all bad news. So I went for my squirt gun to chase the other cat away, but the noises I made to scare her off, must have set him off because the next thing I know, I'm hopping around in the kitchen with a 17-pound ball of teeth and claws attached to my leg.
I managed to shake him off and grab a chair to keep him off - he slunk off and made more noises while Hobbes gets up (half his size) and gets between me and him while I proceed to bleed all over the kitchen floor.
I get to the bathroom and clean up my leg (ow. more ow. ugly damn punctures and scratches.) and finally the shock sets in, and I lay down on the hallway floor, wishing for the water bottle that's on the other side of the growling fuzzball. And Hobbes, dear thing, comes up and gives me love.
Try to get up - nope. Need more floor time. Finally, I hobble back into the kitchen, clean up the blood (thankfully mostly on a newspaper I'd intended for the worm bin) and collapse into my computer chair.
Laurier's down to a muted growl (upset, but not the defending-my-damn-territory yowl) and he'll let me scritch him again, so my fear of being chewn on in my sleep has passed, but now I get to figure out how to bandage all this so I can go to bed and not bleed all over my sheets.
I got attacked by my cat this fine evening.
He was sitting by the cracked window, like he does, when along came this sleek little tabby outside.
I knew it was trouble, because he has this horrible yowl, and he bristles and it's just all bad news. So I went for my squirt gun to chase the other cat away, but the noises I made to scare her off, must have set him off because the next thing I know, I'm hopping around in the kitchen with a 17-pound ball of teeth and claws attached to my leg.
I managed to shake him off and grab a chair to keep him off - he slunk off and made more noises while Hobbes gets up (half his size) and gets between me and him while I proceed to bleed all over the kitchen floor.
I get to the bathroom and clean up my leg (ow. more ow. ugly damn punctures and scratches.) and finally the shock sets in, and I lay down on the hallway floor, wishing for the water bottle that's on the other side of the growling fuzzball. And Hobbes, dear thing, comes up and gives me love.
Try to get up - nope. Need more floor time. Finally, I hobble back into the kitchen, clean up the blood (thankfully mostly on a newspaper I'd intended for the worm bin) and collapse into my computer chair.
Laurier's down to a muted growl (upset, but not the defending-my-damn-territory yowl) and he'll let me scritch him again, so my fear of being chewn on in my sleep has passed, but now I get to figure out how to bandage all this so I can go to bed and not bleed all over my sheets.
