We've all had trouble with our pets, but I don't think anyone can top this.
"Calling in sick to work always makes me feel uncomfortable. No matter how ligitimate 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 kitten. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem...then one morning, I was taking a shower after breakfast when I heard my wife 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 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 will 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 behavior as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button...It was 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 kitten, who discovered the fascinating, dangling objects she spied 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 conduct orderly, bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine area.
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.
There are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself laying 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 snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their laughter.....and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back to the office, where my colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming that it was too painful to talk about...which it was.
'What's the matter?' they all asked. 'Cat got your tongue?'
There was a letter sent in and I read in a magazine, PentHouse Forum, I think it was back in the late 70's,(yep!) and this woman had a cat. When she had a guy over and they got down to it and the guy was on top, the cat would somehow get in their and take a swipe at his "jewels"! Nice Kitty!
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This is a true story as told by a friend of mine.
We've all had trouble with our pets, but I don't think anyone can top this.
"Calling in sick to work always makes me feel uncomfortable. No matter how ligitimate 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 kitten. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem...then one morning, I was taking a shower after breakfast when I heard my wife 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 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 will 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 behavior as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button...It was 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 kitten, who discovered the fascinating, dangling objects she spied 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 conduct orderly, bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine area.
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.
There are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself laying 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 snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their laughter.....and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back to the office, where my colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming that 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!"