Freaky Friday

Told you those teenagers are loads of fun. Neither of these are mine. Someday, you'll get to see kiddo, again. I thought this photo was a hoot.

Freaky Friday

I need a break from A Girl Named Zippy, so you get a free bonus post on two freaky things - one occurrence and one discovery.

1. Freaky Occurrence - I was bit by a neighborhood cat. This is bizarre because I have never, ever been bitten by a cat; cats love me. In fact, you've seen this particular feline many times if you're a regular reader; he's at the bottom of my blog and recently starred in the sad, butterfly-shredding-incident photo grid. He's a nice cat, but he likes attention and has been known to swipe out with a paw of needle-sharp claws if you ignore him. He's drawn blood before.

I was ignoring him, looking up into the sky. I'd petted his head, but not enough to satisfy him. Our backyard had the appearance of a horror movie, buried in blue-black birds, just before I walked outside with the camera. Above is the only snap I managed (probably from about 100 yards). Very possibly, my bright striped hoodie frightened them off. Regardless, the cat came to join me and when I quit petting his head he sank his teeth into my bare calf. Freaky.

It was after doctors' hours, so I sopped up the blood, washed the wound and put on antibiotic ointment and Sponge Bob bandages then printed out the cat's photo and hiked up the hill to ask if the neighbors knew who he belonged to. You know, just to make sure he's up on his shots. They pointed next door and said they thought that was Slim, although neither was certain, but the doorbell just produced a whole lot of doggy barking so I went home.

This morning, I overslept because I just had to stay up late to finish reading Lottery. And, then I called around to find out what government or local entity is in charge of helping folks locate the owners of beasts who bite. You would not believe the reaction, seriously. Those who thought they had an idea who to refer me to gave me numbers that didn't work or connected me with people who squeaked, "Ooooh, that's so weird!" Holy Toledo. After several hours of calling around and waiting for potential returned calls that never materialized, I tried another avenue and was chewed out by a nurse for not rushing to the ER. Like I'm going to pay that kind of money for plain old band-aids when I've got the good Sponge Bobs.

I'm supposed to get a tetanus booster in the morning. And, nobody knows who owns the cat, yet, but I have plenty of spectacular photos of him. That's him, at left, rushing to meet me just before he turned vampire. I love that picture at the bottom of my blog. He was watching a mockingbird. I'll let you know if I begin to drool on my keyboard, in the coming months. It seems highly unlikely, as he was just as happy as ever. I think the bite was a bit like when a big guy slugs you in the shoulder while he says, "Hey, buddy, how ya doin'?" and knocks you over. He's just a little too enthusiastic.

2. Freaky Discovery - Really, no so much freaky as interesting, in my humble opinion. Last year, I noticed that our black and white kitty, Spooky, ceased to meow on trips to the vet if I played the song A New York Christmas, one of my personal favorites from a compilation album I bought at Target for 75 cents at a January clearance sale. Earlier this year, I discovered that our now-deceased kitty, Sunshine, was quite fond of Carrie Underwood.

This week, I walked into my son's room to turn off the music he'd left running. I was surprised to hear Sarah McLachlan. Kiddo ignored her Christmas album, when I first played it, but after about 50 repeats, he began to hate it. So, I assumed he'd just left the iPod running. The next night . . . Sarah, again. Finally, I noticed kiddo turning the Christmas album on and had to ask what the deal was. "Spooky likes Sarah," he replied, pointing at our feline, who was happily curled up on the end of his mattress. "If I turn on Toby Mac, she's out of here, but she'll listen to Sarah all night."

I love it. Incidentally, Spooky also is quite fond of the didgeridoo as long as the husband doesn't practice one particular type of sound, which he refers to as "barking".

Okay, I think I can read now. But, I'm not looking forward to that tetanus shot. Hope everyone else avoids needles, this weekend. Nighty-night!