Ok, picture this: I have a small apartment with only 2 real rooms in it. My cats, Jinx (long haired yellow tabby male, fixed, thank God) and Josie (common tabby female who is only 6 mths old and NOT fixed) are quite comfortable in their little home. Josie has only lived in one other place besides here (my dad's house) and Jinx is used to being shipped from house to house. He loves to explore - in fact, his name should have been Houdini. An open door or window is all the invitation he needs to take off for parts unknown. Today was no different. Starting off, my father and his wife (stepmom) are having a barbeque this evening. I'm in one of my hermit moods and really didn't want to go, but my daughter in law Radonna said she and Fallon would love to go and we wouldn't have to stay long. She brought Fallon up to see Nana for a bit this morning. Off topic, Fallon arrived wearing a cow costume complete with horn adorned hood. She decided she is a baby cow because they drink chocolate milk (well, she does, anyway...LOL) Anyway, they come in and for some reason, Radonna did not check to see that the door to the apt was shut all the way and locked. I keep it locked because now I have 2 escapees who will get out if all possible (Jinx and Fallon). About 30 min after they got here, Fallon begins looking for Jinx. He's a good boy; tolerates most of her enthusiastic pettings, being brushed the wrong way, and an occasional tail tug or two. She couldn't find him, which prompted Radonna to go check the door. There it stood, ajar about 3 in. Just enough to allow two inquisitive cats to make a quiet escape.

I decided to wait until they left to begin searching for them. Josie runs like a raped ape (my late hubby's term, not mine) whenever Fallon is here, so I knew it would be fruitless to even try. Jinx decided after about 30 min of roaming to head back to the ol bunkhouse and see if Mom has dug out the food she surely has hidden away. A couple of loud plaintive meows and in he struts, looking at me as if to say " What??? I ain't been NO WHERE lady!! Where's the food??"

Josie, being the little drama queen she is, didn't show. Once Radonna and Fallon were on their way home, I locked my apt door (Jinx can open it, even when shut unless its locked. I swear he has raccoon fingers!!) and went off to search for Josie. Unlike most cats I've had in the past, she does NOT respond to "here kitty kitty". I finally saw her florescent green eyes on the top step heading down to the laundry room. Just as I get within two feet away from her, off she goes. Sigh.....more steps.....down I go in search of my little bug eyed creature. By this time, my head is splitting and all I want to do is grab her and march her up to my apt. But nooooooooo....she takes off again and this time wisely decides on heading up to the apt. Ah ha!!! Caught her!!! But wait, this isn't Josie, the cat who is so affectionate when I'm on the computer I can't get anything done...this cat has morphed into JUNGLE cat. Hissing, spitting, clawing and biting, she tries to avoid me like the plaque. Since I'm in no mood for her theatrics, I simple do what any other cat lover would do; I reached down and grabbed her by the tail. NOW I've done it....not only is she slashing me like a Freddy Krueger movie, she folds herself around my heel and begins to devour me like a 20 oz steak! The yowling!! The hissing!!! The flayiing of limbs!!! And the cat was pretty hysterical herself. I couldn't let go, she wouldn't let go, and the key to my door simply wasn't turning. Finally with mighty effort and quite a few choice cuss words, I throw open my door, throw in the cat (who makes a bee line for the couch and the comforting nooks behind it). Blood is pouring from my 14 puncture wounds in my heel, the bites on my arm (I didn't even realize she got me there!) were already bruised, and my gait is worse than ever. I bang my way to my bathroom where I dumped my aching foot into the sink and allowed cold water to wash over it. I am not normally squeamish, but so much blood and the pain...I could tell I was going to pass out. I finally grabbed a washcloth (not this one, its white) and grabbed my phone. My son was very sympathetic, and offered to off the cat for me. Nice idea, but I won't go for it.

An hour later, out comes the little spitfire herself, eyeing me suspiciously, and before I know it, she's in my lap, nibbling my fingers once again, purring like a rusty saw, and acting as if she never tried to eat me whole.

Now I have the fun of not only walking into walls and bumping into doorframes, I get to do it one foot. Funnnnnnnn! Remind me again WHY I have cats???