Jeebus! I look like shit today.
Last night, there was an incident at casa t'pon. It has left one member of the family bloody and quite possibly scarred for life and another member sitting sullenly in the corner licking the ego and nursing a limp. The parties in question... me and the cat.
I am not a cat person, but I am incredibly devoted to this animal. Due in large part to the fact that he helped me get sober (that's right, it is hard to find a pet with a degree in addiction disorders) and also to the fact that no one else in this family appreciates him (I am a sucker for a hard luck case). M. barely tolerates his presence and only now lets the cat stay because my Antone DESTROYED a tarantula that M. had inadvertently brought into the house in his shoe.
I feed Antone, I clean his box (although, never as much as I should), I run the faucet for this poor soul so that he will not die a parched death. I do my best to protect him from the dogs and from M.s constant harassment. He sleeps curled up next to me and is usually the first face I see in the morning.
Anyway, back to my story. My sweet kitty is getting slower and quite a bit fatter in his older years. Lately, he has been missing jumps, awkwardly landing against the side of a cabinet or dresser as he attempts to navigate the house. Last night, I was preparing his dinner, which means that all animals must gather around like street urchins, circa London 1800s, to ensure that any mrosel that hits the floor does not go to waste. Needless to say, it gets a little crowded. Antone is pacing his little section of the countertop when suddenly out of nowhere, the baby dog, Nugget, lunges at the cat. At this point in the story, beezelbub opened the gates and all hell breaks loose.
To ensure that he wasn't missing out on any stray food particles, our canine vacuum, Cole, also makes a lunge at the countertop pinning me between the counter and the fridge. In an effort to escape the boxer's advance and the blindly chomping jaws of the lab, Antone attempts to jump up on top of the fridge (a jump, incidentally, that was bold even in his youth). You see where this is going... he missed, badly. And came crashing down on my face, my left eye to be exact.
He cut me, he cut me deep.
As I am crying in pain, Antone takes off into a corner. Nugget and Cole are busy eating the half a bag of cat food that I dropped on the floor when I reached up to keep my eye in its socket. M. is worried that this cat has maimed em for life and is calling for justice to be served through the sacrificing of the poor Antone. All the while, butterbean happily babbles nonsense in the corner.
Why is the video camera always packed away when you most need it? I am sure that FOX would have paid good money for the footage.
I will survive, although I currently bear a striking resemblance to Gill from finding Nemo or better yet, Eve from Days of our Lives, post knife attack. I now have to take a full course of antibiotics to avoid a scorching case of cat scratch fever...
Most concerning is that all signs are pointing towards me entering another cycle of calamity. I send this warning, if you see me coming move to the side and lock up your good china. There is bound to be some disaster careening my way.
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