Dulce does not like her flea drops.


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.


11 responses »

  1. Ahhhh! Poor little pussy.

    Wait! That totally came out wrong.

    Poor little kitty cat!

    (Not that I am unsympatheic to your VJAMBER, Veaj. That must hurt like the dickens.)

    Maisey goes postal on me too if I have her in my arms and happen to walk past any sink. Even if there is no water in it, she just knows that it’s a place where water can collect and she doesn’t want to go anywhere near it. After getting the bejesus scratched outta me many times, I’ve finally learned.)

    Kisses to both you cute girls.

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