kitty

We've all had trouble with our animals,
but I don't think anyone can top this one:

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable.
No matter how legitimate my excuse,
I always get the feeling that my
boss thinks I'm lying.

On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason
but lied anyway, because the truth was
just too darned humiliating.
I simply mentioned that I had sustained
a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up
to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned,
I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage
on the top of my head. The accident occurred
mainly because I had given in to my
wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.


Then one morning, I was taking my shower
after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb,
call out to me from the kitchen.

'Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again.
Please come reset it.'

'You know where the button is,'
I protested through the shower pitter-patter
and steam. 'Reset it yourself!'

'But I'm scared!' she persisted.
'What if it starts going and sucks me in?'

There was a meaningful pause and then,
'C'mon, it'll only take you a second.'

So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked,
hoping that my silent outraged nudity would
make a statement about how I perceived her
behaviour as extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck
my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without
any respect to my circumstances.
No, it wasn't the hexed disposal,
drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.
It was our new kitty, who discovered the
fascinating dangling objects she spied
hanging between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner
and stalked me as I reached under the sink.
And, at the precise moment when I was
most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys
I unwittingly offered and snagged them
with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control
orderly bodily movements, blindly rising
at a violent rate of speed,
with the full weight of a kitten hanging
from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a
'fight or flight' syndrome. Men, in this
predicament, choose only the 'flight' option.
I know this from experience.
I was fleeing straight up into the air
when the sink and cabinet bluntly
and forcefully impeded my ascent.
The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the
paramedics stood over me.

Now there are not many things in this life
worse than finding oneself lying on the
kitchen floor butt naked in front of a
group of 'been-there, done-that' paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed
by my wife, the paramedics were all
snorting loudly as they tried to conduct
their work, all the while trying to
suppress their hysterical laughter......
and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all.
A few days later I finally made it back in
to the office, where colleagues tried to
coax an explanation out of me about
my head injury. I kept silent, claiming
it was too painful to talk about, which it was.

'What's the matter?' They all asked,
'Cat got your tongue?'
If they only knew!