Homework -- When Animals Attack!

Regular readers of this journal are probably already aware of the fact that NZ has a cat who sometimes gets to write journal entries and, oh yes, is the cutest thing ever.  Honestly, I am.  (You just have to scroll down a bit for that last one.)

So, I get to write the journal entry again today, because for this week's homework, that Scalzi fellow asks for "an amusing tale of a pet attacking someone or something."

Let me clear this up right away.  There is NOTHING amusing at all about it when I attack.  I am a predator!  A huntress!  When I attack, I am dead serious.  Here's my dead serious face:

"Sweet adorable kitten" my furry little butt -- I'm a lion, I tell you. A LION.  ROARRRR!

As for the whole "attack" thing, perhaps you've seen this recent entry, in which NZ blows a minor little clawing WAY OUT OF PROPORTION. 

Now, she'll tell you that she was sitting on the couch and I was sitting next to her and decided to go for a jump on the back of the couch -- and that I misjudged the strength I needed to clear her, and while I was mid-jump, I pushed my back feet off of the nearest available surface which just happened to be her face.

Ha.  "Misjudged."  Right.

Here's what really happened:  She was having a lousy month.  Between the boyfriend break-up and the apartment upstairs "raining" used bathwater into her bathroom (and the hole cut into her ceiling for investigative purposes) AND her getting sick and everything else, she was just sitting there slurping chicken soup and feeling all sorry for herself.  (And not giving me NEARLY enough under-the-chin scritchies, I might add.  Man, I love me some under-the-chin scritchies.)

ANYWAY, it seemed desperate measures were called for -- the feline equivalent to the old "Snap out of it" slap across the face.  I perfectly planned a quick little clawing, careful not to hit her eye or cut her up real bad or anything.  Perfectly executed it, too.  And it worked, too.  See how cheerful she is now?

"Misjudged a jump."  Puh-lease.