This morning I was moving pretty slow. Did the usual bathroom stuff and then sat on the edge of the bed while I got dressed. As I pulled on my sweatshirt, my cat Roy jumped on the bed and connected with my flailing left arm. The result resembled a Barry Bonds homer - Roy went flying.
Understandably he was upset with me and immediately ran into the living room to lick himself and contemplate my punishment. Petting and cuddles were out of the question - he wasn’t risking another home run hit. I filled up his food dish, which usually would result in purring, but he just sulked at me.
Now he’s sitting in my chair, just staring at me, obviously just waiting for the ideal moment. Thank god the guns are all locked in the safe. The dial is too high for Roy to reach and shooting a gun is impossible difficult without opposible thumbs.
Roy is subtle, though. Hairball in the shoe, pee on the bed, shredding furniture is more his style. I’ve closed all the closet doors for safety. Meanwhile, I’m at Defcon 4 until my punishment is meted out.
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