No Flashback or Flashforward today. I feel like talking about the large gauge across my face.
My cat is an asshole. To be honest, most cat owners know that cats are completely capable of being assholes. It’s second nature to them. Right after “Feed me” and “Pet me. No, don’t pet me!”
Riley (one of our three cats) has this thing he does when he’s hungry. He will hop up on a nightstand and then wrecking ball himself into us while we sleep.
Now don’t underestimate what I’m saying. This is 15 lbs. of cat to the stomach or the kidney or the groin. He leaps on us like he’s trying to catch a mouse–claws out and all his weight concentrated on one area.
If you’re intensely unlucky, he’ll pounce your face. As you can see from the picture, this is where he got me. It bled furiously. While I held a soap-covered washcloth to my face, he wrapped himself around my ankles to remind me that he was starving and wasting away. If I didn’t feed him immediately, he was going to die.
I mean, who could argue with a face like that? He was going to die folks!
So I got up and fed him.
The entire time, I had this lovely ditty in my head:
I love Stephen Lynch. 😉 I could also go with this Tori’s take on assholes. Or if I was less blunt, I could go with Cat Scratch Fever. Either way, you get the point. Today, my cat was an asshole. A real asshole.
Anyone else got an asshole pet?