Now this is not the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. But it was such a surprise that I ended up injuring myself and being fooled by the dumbest of cats.
Yes, a cat story.
You have to understand that this is the scardiest of scardiecats. To the point where she loses out because she always runs away. She’s 9, is Anya, and about 16lbs. But her girth has never been a factor. She screamed and ran from the time I brought her and her sister home. She has to smell my hand each time, before I’m allowed to pet her. Otherwise, she’ll just back away.
I’ve never struck this cat. Never hit her in any way, even as she was clawing the bottom of my 1960’s, floor to ceiling curtains.
Zander and Anya were like the two halves of Kirk, in that Star Trek where he is split in two. Good and bad. Brave and not so brave. Bold and timid. Zander would climb to the top of the curtains and walk the ledge of the window 8 feet up, when she was 8 weeks old. Anya would talk to her from the floor. I never let them outside, because I live on a busy Main St. Only Zander ever wanted to go out anyway. Anya watches from the window as I leave for work.
Zander used up her 1 life with cancer a few years ago, and left me with Anya, the totally not brave.
She screams for attention at notable decibels, and moves just out of reach when you reach for her. Not once in a while. Always!
Only in the last couple of years will she sit on my lap – she’s done this less than a dozen times since I’ve had her. And she’ll run away at the first sign that I may sneeze.
So I got used to it, and I would have to sneak up on her if I wanted to pet her.
Today, after being out all day, I came into the house and stood at the door. There was Anya, just out of reach. In my best menacing Captain Hook voice I said something like “So, I’ve got you now, Ha Ha! And I’m going to pounce on you at last” and I jumped at her with both feet, knowing she would retreat as I reached for her, if not out and out flee into the kitchen. Sometimes if I’m not too loud, if I’m slow, I can catch her and roll her onto her back and rub her belly. This she likes.
But the truth is, I figured I’d scare her today and I jumped toward her, hands out, full frog position … and she didn’t move, so my weight would have landed on my hands and my hands would have landed on her. I’d have crushed her. I tucked them down by my feet. My center of gravity was way too far forward. My hands back at my feet now protecting Anya from my threatening mass.
BANG, I hit my head on the floor. I saw a brief bright yellow and red flash and rolled onto my side preserving at least, her, life. She has always run. Always! Today she didn’t run.
I hit the ground hard, full on my forehead, wearing my Yuengling baseball cap, and I am currently raising a reverse “NGL” welt from the logo stitched into the front of the cap.
It feels as if this mark may stick around for Tuesday’s employment interview! So far no blood.
Right now she’s looking at me. Complaining. And standing 6 feet away.