We left The Bad Room Mate at Brad's dad's house when we went to Penticton. No biggie, he's been there before. My sister-in-law's cats were there at the same time. Again, no problem - he's met them before.
The night we got back we stayed over before heading back to the island. Zig was stoked to have us back, he stuck pretty close to us that night which isn't unusual actually.
It was hot, my feet were sticking out of the blankets. I was sound asleep.
4:00am - I woke up to a loud, horrible screeching nutcase at the same time as the bottom of my foot was ripped off.
(This photo was taken about two weeks after my foot was mauled. It was worse than it looks.)
Of course these two things happened at the same time as I sat up yelling "Mother F*%ker!!!"
Brad slept through it all.
At first we assumed that one of the other cats did it, but neither of them was around. I think Ziggy was so paranoid of them, that as he laid there fast asleep something touched him - maybe another cat, maybe the blanket, maybe my foot - and he assumed it was another cat and freaked out.
I ask you for the millionth time - Why do we keep these creatures around?
2 comments:
Ouch! Brad must be a super sound sleeper. I don't know that I would have slept through a feline foot mauling...
That looks so painful. Did it hurt to walk on (asks Dr. Obvious)?
I heard this story in person, but it's interesting to see a photo of the injury. Oh Ziggy....
Post a Comment