I know. I feel for her. I always get everything prepped, cuddle her, and try to do it all before she realizes what’s happened. She hops up, and heads for the closet so indignantly you can almost hear a door slam. In the closet she must do some soul searching, because when she emerges, she seems to have moved past the betrayal. Either that, or she drinks her feelings away. I don’t know. All I know is that after four years together, I thought we had a workable system, in which we’d promptly cuddle and make up.
Maybe I’m getting slow in my old age. Last night I had her in my lap, and maybe she smelled it coming or something, because she went from purring to …….. well ….. this, in milliseconds. She tore me up from foot to arm. Some of the scratches are pictured here. Other scratches are not pictured because they happen to be ON MY VAGINA.
Next month, I’m going to wear a cup.