So I'm writing a post about how much I enjoyed my Christmas. The dog is cozied up to Belle on the couch. The Cat is laying between us purring, slowly encroaching on my mouse pad.
Life is good.
I nudged the Cat to get her off my mouse pad. She has been getting a bit to big for her britches lately.
Cat went into feral attack mode, bit and clawed, and summarily got bitch slapped off the couch.
This time, she opened a vein on the back of my hand.
She is now on the back of the other couch getting the hairy eyeball from me. She also has a smudge of my blood on her forehead. A little reminder, courtesy of kx59.
This is the second time in a week. I now have cat attack scars on both hands.
She is now no longer allowed within the kx59 wingspan of my person.
For her own safety.
I am a cat person. I grew up with cats. All my previous cats have been very loving and affectionate. I like cats a lot. This one, less and less. Ok. truthfully, not at all anymore.