The middle of the beginning

Andrew and I decided several months ago that enough interesting things happen to us that we ought to keep a journal or record our experiences somehow. Well...the idea was great, and the past few months....we've done nothing about it. So finally we decided maybe a blog is the way to go. We will also print OUT the blogs so we can have tangible evidence of our journaling attempts for our posterity who naturally will be grateful we kept it. So the thought is...whoever writes, will write their name at the beginning of the post, so all of our zero readers so far will know who is talking. So

Brittney: I will record my recent experience with the feline species. It was quite the unpleasant experience and I am sure that I am scarred for life now because of it. But Andrew can tell you for sure, what with his Psychology background and everything.

Our neighbors asked us to feed their cats while they were away on vacation. Well, owning a cat of our own we figured it was a job we could handle, and even do proficiently and to our neighbors liking. Last Sunday, day 1 of our cat-sitting adventure, and ultimately the last day of this adventure as well, was a day that will always be remembered by...me. Like a good sitter I went upstairs at approxmately 1.55pm to feed the cats. Cat #1: Coal. 3 yrs

old, long haired black cat with bad attitude, but typically pleasant enough. Cat #2: Asia. 3 month old, short haired black cat who is still too young to know whats going on. I get into the apartment, I pet the cats, and i start searching the cabinets for cat f

ood. I had forgotten where the food was so i opened and closed every cabinet in the kitchen. Well Coal was starting to get aggitated with how long I, a stranger, had been in his house, so he started to grumble and growl. Ya know, that deep throaty growl that cats do. Well...as i was conveniently trapped b

etween the kitchen table and the wall, pouring food into a cat bowl, Coal made it apparent he wanted me out of the house ASAP by bearing his teeth, growling, hissing and floofing his fur whilst arching his back. Still, I was unaffected because again, I grew up with cats. I took the food bag and tapped Coal on the nose which typically causes cats to CHILL OUT, or run away. Oh no no, not Coal. That was the last straw for Coal. Coal leaps at me and attaches his teeth and all twenty perfectly sharpened claws to my leg. I shriek in pain and proceed to kick Coal (sorry for all you animal activists but it HURT!), launching him across the room. Again, typically a cat would bolt after being kicked. Nope, Coal came back for more. Now fearing for my life as well as for the cleanliness of the carpet (my legs were dripping blood by this time) I took off for the door. Coal catches me in the foot, in the hip/stomach and 3 times on the legs before, while screaming profanities I finally make it to the door. Leaving the keys in the door, my flipflops at the front door and the door wide open, i sprint down the stairs to my own apartment, safe. NOT!!! COAL chases me all the way down the stairs. At this point im thinking "If he runs into my apartment I will be trapped and h

e will eat me alive!!!" Luckily he did not make it into the house. Once i slammed the door shut i stood there, absolutely HYSTERICAL. By this point my legs and bloody and I am sure that I am going to die any moment, so i call Andrew and cry/yell/scream at him to get home NOW!!! I explain between sobs what had happened, while Coal guarded my window and door so I could get go anywhere. Andrew got home, an

d he and another neighbor shooed Coal into his house with a broom. We then went to the ER because, FYI, cats are dirty. They have dirty mou

ths, they have dirty claws, and people have died from getting scratched and/or bitten by cats (yes, even housecats) and not going to the Dr. SO we went. Well those lovely ER people scrubbed my legs with a BRISTLE BRUSH and some form of stinging liquid, gave me an Rx for antibiotics and sent me on my merry way. The antibiotics were really what I was after (plus when we went to pick them up at the pharmacy, the pharmacist mentioned cookies and ice cream help heal deep wounds, so we picked up some of that too...anything to help heal!) I had five full mouth bite marks on various parts of my legs and the puncture wounds went about half an inch deep into my calf muscle and shin muscles, so this week was spent hobbling around with quite the swollen legs. The cat? Well, I told the owners i would not go back in there, and they had plenty of food to survive 3 days. When the owners got home and opened their door, Coal went BERSERK hissing, growling etc. Well they have a 2 years old daughter and weren't willing to risk a psycho cat, so they had the Humainne Society come and whisk Coal away (may he RIP). The aftermath posted by way of photos, i will spare you the picture of my hip.