At the point when my finals were nearing completion, I decided that Sunday would be a good day to take a break and relax for a bit. Things were going oh-so swimmingly, when suddenly, because of the guttural cat posturing, we realized that our feisty orange cat, Opie, was still on the porch. I ran to the door to see that our cat had jumped the gate and was now off the porch and in direct line of the un-neutered orange neighborhood cat, whose posturing he was responding to.
No sooner did I have my broom in hand to shoo away the intruder than there was a single ball of screaming, clawing, biting tangle of orange hair at the bottom of my porch steps. This went on for about a half minute, but seemed much, much longer, but when it was over, I could tell that my little bruiser of a kitty had kicked the snot out of the neighborhood ruffian.
I quickly took notice that the other cat had merely retreated and was likely planning a second assault. Not wanting to witness another exchange, I set aside the broom and reached for my cat. It was immediately clear that this was not the best idea. He reacted as if I was another enemy and quickly tore my right hand and arm to shreds- five deep puncture wounds and countless scratches.
Apparently aware that Opie was otherwise pre-occupied, the other one decided to commence with round two, while Opie’s teeth and claws were still in my hand and arm. His attack resulted in four puncture wounds and two particularly nasty scratches on my left hand and arm. The blood was horrific.
On my left hand was an especially gruesome injury consisting of a connecting puncture wound beginning in the webbing of my first and second fingers and extending downward, to just past my knuckles. When I went to initially clean them out, I made the teeth chattering, heebie geebie discovery that when I ran the water on the wound between my fingers, it ran through and out of the wound on the top of my my hand.
Luckily, Marieke managed to get Opie back in the house and was then able to render assistance to my bleeding appendages. Either from the heebidy geebidy nature of my injuries or from the loss of so much blood, I became an unconscious pile on my bathroom floor.
When I came to, I began to hyperventilate and had a slight panic attack. After recovering from that, I was finally able to dress my wounds, and to reduce my level of acute discomfort, I shaved my arm hair around the wounds so that the bandages would not Brazilian Hot Wax the hair off for me.
The most painful of my injuries is on the inside of my right first finger, below the first knuckle. It was just a bite, but I’m pretty sure Opie’s tooth was stopped only by my bone.
I used an entire bottle of alcohol and peroxide cleaning everything out, and have no less than 9 bandages on both hands. It is all really very sore.
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