July 10th, 2003


War Wounds

I've been taking care of our downstairs neighbor's cats, McGillycuddy and Akimbo, while he's goen for a week. Basically feeding and watering them, scooping poop, and playing a little to make sure they don't get too lonely. Well, playing with McGillycuddy, who is a young Bengal, while the neurotic Akimbo sits in a corner and staring at us.

McG is capable of astounding leaps. Amazing, acrobatic leaps. So yesterday, driven wild by the lure of the rustly, sparkly thing on a stick, he managed to leap up and claw me across the face with his back paws. Ow. I grabbed some paper towels to staunch the blood, which was (literally) dripping from my face and fled upstairs. I was sure for a while I was going to need stitches, but finally with a lot of ice, it stopped, and after a couple of beers (I drink pretty rarely) and once Wayne got home and made sympathetic noises and bought me comfort food and cleaned me up, I felt a lot better. But today I look like Frankenstein, and I'm wondering how many people at work are going to think Wayne secretly beats me.
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