{"id":4759,"date":"2019-07-15T15:18:27","date_gmt":"2019-07-15T13:18:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=4759"},"modified":"2020-03-09T07:24:16","modified_gmt":"2020-03-09T06:24:16","slug":"cat-man","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/?p=4759","title":{"rendered":"Cat Man"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Cat Man in Box <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Pet owners who go on holiday always pay\na collateral price for their trip. A friend of mine has to put all of her shoes\nin cabinets or her German Shepherd will destroy them for being left alone. Another\nwill come across little secret stockpiles of cat poop in shoes, closets, Tupperware\nin retribution for his little jaunt. A lot of animals don\u2019t like to be left\nhome alone, and they show it in different ways. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My cat has a pattern when it comes to\ndoling out neglect-inspired revenge. When I return from holiday she meows me\ninto the flat with the gusto and volume of a failed expeditionary general. She then\npulls little passive aggressive moves like tripping me up and shouting at me\nabout it, Whoa, dude, watch where you\u2019re going!<\/em> But when I turn on the\nbathroom tap for her and rub her head as she drinks, the meows slowly dissipate.\nShe is back in her comfort zone, relief and gratitude take over the anger. While\nshe drinks I pour a packet of top shelf kitty grub in her bowl and lure her to\ndinner. By the time she eats, her purrs could motor a boat across the English Channel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s the period after this that worries\nme. See, she seems lovably grateful and happy that Dad has returned, but she\nwill always get me once. With one bite, that is. My cat has the revenge memory,\nthe plotting abilities, and the hand accessories of Freddy Krueger. She lays in\nwait, bides her time, and then she gets me with one good bite. When this will\ncome, I genuinely don\u2019t know. It could be in a day or a month or as I leave for\nChristmas holiday. I just have to be on my toes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Making matters more difficult is the\nfact that she spends roughly eight hours a day sitting on me. My cat expresses\nneediness by sitting on me: my neck, my back, my stomach between me and my\nbook, my hip, and by sitting on my feet when I am making coffee. This might be\nseen as charming by an ignorant observer. After all, she\u2019s fluffy and\nsleepy-eyed, relaxed and reclined. But I know that at the drop of a hat this\nsleepy-eyed furball can turn into a lawnmower. And one that\u2019s pissed off to\nboot. Sometimes there\u2019s a warning, a growl, a mohawked ridge of fur, splayed\nclaws. Sometimes there\u2019s not. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today there\u2019s not. The cat moseys to the\nback of the couch on which I am lying and reading a book. My phone buzzes and\nlike a good little mindless follower, I reach out for it. And that\u2019s when it\nhappens. The cat goes from 0 to 100 in a split second, literally pouncing on my\narm. She grips my arm and plunges those vampire fangs deep into my wrist. I\nyelp in the manner of a truly surprised person (like a small child) and wrest the\ncat off by her scruff. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

This is by far the worst cat bite I have\never had. Puncture wounds that are barely bleeding. I stomp off to the bathroom\nin a haze of vulgarities, and as I clean out the wound she jumps up next to me,\npaws on sink, for her daily drink from the tap. I suggest in an eerily calm\nvoice that she find another place to be or that I might see how far I can throw\na cat through a third floor window. It\u2019s then that she starts barking at me.\nSee, she says, I was only rightfully exacting revenge. But she runs away, maybe\nrealizing that she has pissed off the giant who lives in her house and who,\nmore importantly, is her source of food and water. She spends the remainder of the\nday under the bed from which distant chirps of rationale can be heard whenever\nI go into the bedroom. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My doctor is away on holiday (probably\npissing off his cat) so at 7:15 the following morning I am walking through the\nrain towards a nearby clinic, muttering curses, and ignoring the terrified commuters\nbacking out of my path. The women at reception are nice and they piece together\nmeaning and actual sentences from what I am passing as my Czech this morning. They\nsend me upstairs. At the doctor\u2019s order, the very nice nurse applies an\nantibiotic paste and wraps my wrist in a bandage. \u201cCome back tomorrow\u201d she says.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Repentant Cat Oversees Handiwork <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On the way home people note the wrist\nbandage and then give me a weary-eyed look of empathy. No, no, it\u2019s not like\nthat, I implore with my own eyes, my cat\u2019s just a dick. I medicate with hotdogs\nand a donut. Burke laughs at my bandage and I resist the urge to tell her that\nI went to the doctor because of her paranoia for cat scratch fever. We go to the\nmovies (Film: Yesterday, very funny, charming, The Beatles, wait for video\nrelease) and then for a few beers. It\u2019s during these beers that I begin to feel\nsick. Chills, sore everywhere, and a red rash takes over the forearm. In\nmedical terms: I am fucked. At our local hospital (Burke\u2019s insistence) the\nnurse says that I am fine for the night and should go home and see the doctor\nin the morning as directed. When we get home, the cat meows me through the door\nand then runs to her bowl. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s a bit of insult to injury here.\nThe cat\u2019s mad at me because I\u2019m late and I\u2019m late because I was at a hospital\ndealing with a wound she dealt me. There\u2019s no insult to injury (sensing a\ntheme) in the fact that I now have to literally cater to and then clean the poop\nup of a cat who has injured me. I am feeling too sick to explain this to her,\nso I go to the couch and watch television and lick my wounds.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wish I could report that I acquired\ncat-like superpowers. I mean, there\u2019s an hour or two when I mosey and lounge in\nthe sunny parts of the house, but I think that\u2019s to counteract the chills.\nAlso, I do become inexplicably attracted to boxes. Even picture frames allure\nme for minutes on end. To successfully whack me, an assassin would only have to\ndrop a cheeseburger in an open coffin in the ground. Done. Although to be\nhonest, an assassin could get me with that modus operandi any other day. But there\nare no cat powers. If anything, I am too sore and achy to walk, jump, and climb\nwith the ninja-esque agility of my cat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The following morning I feel better,\nbut the same tall nurse \u201chmmms\u201d at the red forearm and its browning bruise. The\ncat has hit the muscle. I narrow my eyes, thus conveying an action movie-like dedication\nand plan for retribution. The doctor jams her hand in my underarm and asks me\nif it hurts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, I think, you keep poking me. But\nI say, \u201cNo.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She prescribes antibiotics and a return\nvisit on Monday. The tall nurse lathers my arm in antibiotic cream, wraps it up,\nand puts it in a sling. Isn\u2019t this a bit overkill?<\/em> I might ask, were I\nnot lost in revenge fantasies against my own cat. I take my prescription and I leave.\nI am angry. I walked in looking like a guy who sliced his wrist and come out\nlooking like a guy who beat that sliced wrist with a hammer. On the way home I\npick up my prescription and buy two hotdogs baked into croissants and a watermelon.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Next Time I’m Getting a Full Body Cast <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Every movement of my right arm is painful, sending electric pulses of agony up my arm. I am still sore and exhausted. I have to keep everything in my left pocket and my messenger bag is shifted to my left side. Doing everything with the left is unnatural and like many people who have suffered sprained wrists and broken bones on their dominant arms, I realize that I have been taking this for granted my whole life. I promise a new perspective upon my successful convalescence. I lie on the couch and watch Stranger Things<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cat wants to join me and for the morning I do not let her. In the first place, she\u2019s in the doghouse. In the second, I am a little afraid that she\u2019s going to go after my left arm and render me a full upper body invalid. But like most cats, she\u2019s persistent, and though I keep shooting her dirty looks, she keeps scurrying away and then trying again. Finally, I can no longer by angry at my little friend. She comes up and I let her sleep on my hip. I keep my arms covered with my blanket just in case she\u2019s still a little irked, but she turns on her side and gets into the show in peace. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My little buddy is my little buddy again, for the most part. But at least I’m reminded that my the pleasant little mop who sleeps in a furball and loves lunch meat and drinks beer is also a natural predator. While I’ve never been one to fuel that instinct and loathe the idea of cockfighting, my mind looks forward with worry to my return from the U.S. in late August. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

To save my own ass, I may open a coliseum in my living room. Pit her against cockroaches and hefty spiders and maybe a mouse, feed her playful blood lust with the occasional snapped wing fly and reward her efforts in the ring with some ham and salted turkey breast. Maybe she’ll leave me alone. Or maybe I’ll just wear long-sleeved shirts until December, when it’s time to leave again. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cat Man in Box Pet owners who go on holiday always pay a collateral price for their trip. A friend of mine has to put all of her shoes in cabinets or her German Shepherd will destroy them for being left alone. Another will come across little secret stockpiles of cat poop in shoes, closets, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4760,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[8,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4759","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/damiengaleone.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/66922605_751217295300148_5854980996516020224_n.jpg?fit=1302%2C1736&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1EvEu-1eL","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4759","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4759"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4759\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4763,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4759\/revisions\/4763"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4760"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4759"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4759"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/damiengaleone.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4759"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}