My animals are trying to kill me.
I swear! No, I’m not making this up and I am NOT being paranoid. This is not the usual stand at/near/between/behind my feet sort of pet behavior. Nosirree purl.
No. I’m talking sudden carpet-shifting, ball-on-top-of-stairs-leaving, between-the-feet-dashing, yarn-as-a-trip-wire-stringing sort of malicious, calcluated MURDEROUS behavior. I can just hear them plotting now.
Trix: Ok, here’s the plan….she’ll walk in the door
Trix: And you sneak up behind her, k? …teehee…
Trix: And then I’ll do my so-glad-you’re-home-happy dance…she LOVES that shit…
Sabe: So, your usual spastic gyrations…
Trix: shaddup! TWACK! Now, when I start wagging my tail so hard I fold myself in half, that’s your clue to get right behind her, nice and close, but let her see you doing it!
Sabe: Okie dokie
Trix: And then I’ll launch myself into her arms, throwing her off balance, she’ll trip over you, smacking her head on the corner of the tiled landing. Voila! No one will ever suspect a thing, and if so, we’ll blame it on the cat.
Sassy: Hey, I heard that!
Don’t they know that without me, they’ll never get fed, walked, watered, poop-scooped, litter-sifted, groomed, vetted, medicated, toyed or treated? For I am She-Who-Makes-All-Things-Happen. Pretty short-sighted of them if you ask me. Damned ingrates. And they’re working independently too, the little bastards. Guess I’ll have to make sure the blow-dryer is put away before I take my bath at night because you KNOW Sassy will get the sudden urge to do some innocent sink-walking. Innocent, my ass!
4 times I fell this weekend, and all 4 times it was pet related. I look like a trainwreck with all the bruises and sore muscles and the limping! They’re trying to murder me. That’s the only rational explanation. Otherwise, it would mean that I’m just a big old klutz, and we all know THAT’S just crazy-talk.