Cat Lover or Not, this is hysterical!






We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top
this one:

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how
legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm
lying.

On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because
the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I
had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in
the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain
the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because
I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.

Initially, the new acquisition was no problem--.

Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my
wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.

"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."

"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower
pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"

"But I'm scared!" she persisted "What if it starts going and sucks me
in?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you
a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent
outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her
behavior as extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find
the button. It is the last action I remember performing.



It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.
No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal
teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling
objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around
the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. At the precise
moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly
offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational
thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent
rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my
masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome.
Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this
from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink
and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact
knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are
not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the
kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that"
paramedics.

Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were
all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while
trying to suppress their hysterical laughter.....and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back
in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of
me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to
talk about, which it was. "What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat
got your tongue?"

If they only knew!

Why is it that only the women laugh at this?

wow, that's hilarious.. i laughed so hard! nice story

Ouch LMAO

OUCH