This picture was taken after Oskar (pictured at left, having his head squozen) took a flying leap off my butt while I lay prone during my mid-morning, recuperative nap session. Why, oh why, you wonder, would that winsome feline have reason to race in such utter panic across the smooth cheeks of one so fine as Schmutzie? The answer is simple my friends, and it comes in the form Onion.
Onion (pictured at right, licking my camera lens) had the gall to look at him. Four-and-a-half hours of caterwauling and various erratic behaviours erupted upon a scant glance from Onion in the early hours, because Oskar must pin down his authority over all things apartment in the face of Onion's increasing mass. Physically, they were once matched, but Onion is now twice larger. His extra stupidity has made Onion slow to realize this fact, which afforded the slighter Oskar a territorial advantage, but the writing is on
my ass the wall. Oskar's dominance is being usurped by a slower, far less intelligent oaf.
What the photograph does not show is that, not long after the Palinode doctored my sore cheek with rubbing alcohol, that damnable Oskar once again raced across my night table in an attempt to hurl himself at Onion's hind end. My fresh, hot coffee was knocked over but managed to become wedged between the furniture where, half-full, it caught my bottle of acetaminophen, which float upside down, taking on liquid. I was noting the grace with which each of the elements engaged in the destruction had come together when the painful burn of coffee on my newly wounded ass took hold. The Palinode hurried over to help clean up the coffee that was on the mattress, pillows, blankets, and floor while I took off to wrangle a certain cat into his cat carrier for some much needed down time. In truth, his little kitty life depended on his being locked away from me and my poor, abused butt.
Now that Oskar is sleeping safely behind bars, I am going to prepare a new pot of coffee, apply a cool cloth to my sore left cheek, and play some online Scrabble. Perhaps, when I am done, I will no longer want to look up "how to hobble" on Google.