Cats Have Five Points Of Attack

Part 1 is here.

I take the lid and push the cat off me.  I really don’t remember if I was being gentle or not.  I am yelling into the phone, “The cat bit me, the cat bit me!”  I don’t know if I swore.

My friend asked which one and I said the other.  ”That’s weird, that’s the nice one.”  Great.  The mean one is the one I have to get into a box but for the moment I am stuck in a 10 X 10 room with two cats by the door.

I hang up and use the lid as a shield while carrying the box out.  If one cat jumps at me I am gone and that’s it.  They don’t.  I am standing in the living room of the this dark 70’s home wondering what the hell I am going to do.  I am trying to do a favor for a friend but I am panicking because of my phobia.

For my masculinity’s sake I must remind you that I have zero fear of dogs which makes this even funnier to my friends.

So I am standing there wondering what to do and the leg-biter leaves and the sick cat strolls over to me – for a taste of my leg I am sure.  I tip the box over and nudge the cat in and, probably, slam the lid shut.  I am watching for a sneak attack from the other cat which doesn’t happen and shoot out the door.

The box is big and I can’t sit down then slide it to the passenger’s seat so I put it down on the passenger seat and watch to see if the cat will jump out like a Jack-in-the-Box.

It looks safe and I run around the car and jump in while simultaneously slamming my hand down on the lid.  I finally feel safe.  I drive one handed, almost lifting my right side up because I am pushing down so hard on the box.  The cat tries to get and pops it’s face through which freaks me out but it goes back.

Part 3 to come.

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