The pain was sharp, sudden, and agonizing. She awoke when the 2 x 4 slammed her right ear. Sleep fogged her mind as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Her hand flew to the source of the excruciating pain and came away bloody. Barely conscious she struggled to get out of the bed before the attacker could strike again except, she realized, there was no attacker.
"WTF" she groused loudly. Still dazed she scanned the room. Only two snoring dogs and a snoring husband. "Did I just dream that??" she wondered, but the pain was still very real. She cupped her injured ear again and again her hand became soaked in very real blood.
She slid out of bed, went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. The sight that met her when she looked in the mirror took her breath away. Her reflection looked like a scene out of a blood and guts horror movie. The side of her face was covered, her hair was soaked, blood ran down her neck and covered her chest. "SWEET JESUS WTF??"
She felt the warm brush of a cat rubbing himself against her legs. She looked down. Baxter looked up and said "mmmmMM?" which is Baxter for "I didn't wake you up when I landed on your head did I? Sorry bout that but since you're up feed me!"
"BAXTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! @#&*!!! YOU LITTLE #@*%##@!!"
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Some people are like slinkies. They don't have a purpose But they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs
lol! That's cute. Mine likes to nip me in the calf. She's a beast, but I love her. The other two are much more sedate.
Have you read this one yet?
It is kinda long, but it goes pretty fast it gets better toward the end:
EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DAILY DIARY:
8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 a.m. Wow! A car ride! This is a blast!
9:40 a.m. Got to go to the park! Rolled in some really nasty stuff, was so proud of myself. Humans were less than impressed.
10:30 a.m. Got my tummy rubbed and petted -- I'm in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch: yummy!
1:00 p.m. Played in the yard: I loved it!
3:00 p.m. Stared adoringly at my masters ... they're the best!
4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids got home! I was so happy I was bouncing off the walls!
5:00 p.m. Milk bones -- awesome!
7:00 p.m. Got to play ball! What a day, this was too good to be true!
8:00 p.m. Wow: watching TV with my master! Heavenly!
EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DAILY DIARY:
Day 683 of My Captivity:
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomited on the floor.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a ''good little hunter'' I am. The audacity!!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow-- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released--and he seems more than willing to return! He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant -- I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe-- for now. But I can wait.
There was a news story on The Onion once whose headline was something like "Area Dog has Best Day Ever for 400th Straight Day". That's what dogs are like. Every day is the best day ever. With cats, it's harder to tell.
Hehe... Bandit likes to "accidentally" step on my head as he moves from one side of the bed to the other... tell me how a cat who can leap from the ground onto a tiny platform 5 feet off the ground can't manage to walk across the bed without stepping on my eye?
Hehe... Bandit likes to "accidentally" step on my head as he moves from one side of the bed to the other... tell me how a cat who can leap from the ground onto a tiny platform 5 feet off the ground can't manage to walk across the bed without stepping on my eye?
There is no logical (other than cat logic) way to explain that, or the fact that Baxter finds the route from door to window to William's stomach to my head to the bathroom, shorter than the route from the door straight to the bathroom.
Welcome to the Farm House Barb!
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Some people are like slinkies. They don't have a purpose But they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs
Hehe... Bandit likes to "accidentally" step on my head as he moves from one side of the bed to the other... tell me how a cat who can leap from the ground onto a tiny platform 5 feet off the ground can't manage to walk across the bed without stepping on my eye?
He could - he just chooses not to, because any dignity he steals from you he gets to keep in the next cycle of reincarnation.
Hehe... Bandit likes to "accidentally" step on my head as he moves from one side of the bed to the other... tell me how a cat who can leap from the ground onto a tiny platform 5 feet off the ground can't manage to walk across the bed without stepping on my eye?
There is no logical (other than cat logic) way to explain that, or the fact that Baxter finds the route from door to window to William's stomach to my head to the bathroom, shorter than the route from the door straight to the bathroom.
Welcome to the Farm House Barb!
And here we recognize "stomach" as a euphemism for a region somewhat lower than that, but there's no need to revel in tawdry detail. His aim is amazing - he can hit me dead-center from all the way over on the windowsill.
See, my cat is a bit more sneaky than that. Instead of getting physical (which she will do if I don't get up as quickly as she wants me to), she will get on my end table or dresser and start knocking things off.
I'm often torn on my theories of cat motivation. Most of the time I think they mostly just steal dignity from us for use in their next cycle of reincarnation, but other times I'm pretty sure the cats in the Mother Ship are watching video of us and are amused to see their field agents (our cats) walking on our eyes and landing four-square on our nether regions. Yes, somewhere on the home planet of the Cat Empire we're being featured on The Galaxy's Funniest Bipeds.
