Willow The Wicked is trying to make me doubt my sanity and do me in whichever comes first. Blasted cat! I know it is her. It could never be my tolerant and patient playmate Missy The Marshmallow.
The other day Missy sat on Willow. Missy has a rather large midriff even for a house-bound cat. Garfield has nothing on Missy! Understandably, Willow, who's more fur than fat, freaked out, yowling about. Finally, she escaped her prison of furry fat flesh and made a bee-line for the stairs. Worried about her, I followed, only to be chased back with spitting hisses and outstretched claws. I tried showing her my butt to allay her fears and fend off her attack. I've had good results in the past with butt-showing. This time, that darned cat scratched my butt to smithereens...no wait....smithereens is what you get when blown up....she scratched my butt to shreds. Oh all right, it wasn't shredded, but it was bleeding. Worse, it was bleeding MY blood. What a conundrum that was....seeing my own blood...giving it a sniff....I didn't know what to do....the sight of it made me feel faint. Luckily Magoo was there to tell me to put my head between my knees. The room soon stopped fading in and out and Magoo cleaned me up.
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