In the truth is definitely stranger than fiction department; the reason why I'm up so early this morning?

Well, about twenty minutes ago, I was lying in bed listening to the BBC and minding my own business when I was attacked out of the blue by a small furry object, claws extended--on my face, no less.

I wish I knew who it was, because that particular felon (in my book, at least) would now be hurting.

Whoever it was got me right beside my eye--between my nose and my eye, that is, and right above my eye too. I almost ended up like Malachi, only with cat claws instead of a dagger.

In truth, I lay there for a bit screaming at my darlings and bled all over my pillowcase before I dared to get up and check.

And of course there's no hydrogen peroxide in the house, so I had to use tea tree oil; hopefully that won't do funky things to my vision either.

It hurts, damn it. And the one cardinal rule is this: You don't jump on your human and try to claw her to death. You just don't.

Hopefully my eye won't swell shut. As it is, I'm going to have to look like a librarian all day because I can't push my glasses up all the way.


(And don't worry, (Dad.) Any sign of swelling and I'll make an appointment with the nearest doctor. But cat scratches are pretty much par for the course if you have cats, really. And I've not had problems before. Cat bites are a different story. I've seen too many infected ones not to go immediately.)


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