This morning I was getting ready for work and rushing around the bathroom and doing whatever and turned around quickly and WHAM! I punched my cat.

See, I didn't notice when he jumped on the counter, and I accidentally hit him right in the kisser.

He looked at me, all sad and hurt-like before running away. But I was already late. And I didn't have time to play the role of inadvertantly abusive cat mama.

"Oh, you're fine," I said in the general direction of where the cat ran. "Don't be such a baby."

Just as I was about to leave, the cat slunk out of his hiding place and walked around my feet. When he looked up, his nose was noticeably red. Like, Rudolph red.

"Ack! You're bleeding! Help! What happened? Did you do this? Or did I do this? You know I love you, baby, right? I would never hurt you."

My cat does not yet know how to talk, and so he did not answer.

I cleaned him up, left for work and sent a message to my boyfriend about the bloody cat nose and how I unintentionally became Ike Turner.

And because I knew the boyfriend was stopping by the vet this afternoon for Ridiculously Expensive Organic Prescription Cat Food Made of Gold, I asked if he could get the vet's opinion on the bloody nose. Oh, and maybe see what he says about the tooth the cat chipped a month ago. And find out about the missing patch of fur too.

So the boyfriend called me after the vet.

ME: Did you ask him about the tooth?

HE: Yeah, he said it was no big deal.

ME: And the fur?

HE: It's fine.

ME: What about the bloody nose?

HE: Basically, the vet just said you need to stop beating up the cat.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 26, 2007 at 6:54 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.