By The Skin Of My Teeth
Posted By Russ Emerson on October 1, 2006 at 11:26 am
An attempt was made on my life this morning.
I arrived home from work at about 1am, about the normal time. As usual, Mycah was waiting, watching out the front window for my arrival. I expected she wanted to be fed.
I came in, and as I walked into the kitchen with my laptop case over my shoulder, keys in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other, Mycah darted between my feet.
Now, Mycah darting anywhere is a rarity; yes, she’s the slimmest she’s been since she got here, but she’s still roughly football-shaped. A speed machine she ain’t… not normally.
Add to the equation the state of my legs: bad knees, and sciatic nerve issues resulting in substandard (read: near total lack of) motor control.
Result: me on the floor. Groceries scattered. Laptop… well, I hope it still works. Given the state of my legs, it took no small effort to get off the floor and back on my feet.
Mycah had scampered out of harm’s way and stood there unscathed, meowing to be fed, as if nothing had happened.
She did it to me deliberately, I just know it. And no jury would ever convict her, even though I have previously given warning. She seems so sweet — just look at that face:
OK, bad example. Try this one instead.
4pm Update: The first time I booted the laptop when I got to the office, it served up a hardware error before I got to the login prompt. I thought I was doomed. After a hard reset, though, it seems to be OK.
LOL, “I expect you to die, Mr. Bond!”
Hey good photo of the evil eye = looks like you might have gotten it while being down for the count! All she needs is a paw on your chest.
Grumpy kitty.
Well, look no further than at her forehead… batwing shapes there, dire omen !
Maybe she just wanted to find out what was in the groceries bag ? Or maybe revenge for bad food. Cats always have a reason.
Aaah, she just wanted to get your attention. Mission accomplished! A big man needs a big cat, and the bigger they are the harder they fall.
She’ll make it up to you when the cold weather hits and she decides to snuggle.
I have another definition of “darting,” that is: to aim and throw a sharp, pointed, metal projectile at the lumbering hide of an obese feline, with the specific intent to harm said creature.
At the least, it would be as amusing as the pub version. At the most, it could save you thousands in medical bills.
Just a thought.
It is sad that you fell, but I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said that wasn’t funny.