This morning my cat tried to kill me. I don’t think it was premeditated, just a matter of timing.
For many years I’ve used eye drops every morning. It was suggested as a way of possibly helping to stave off development of glaucoma – a condition my mother and two of my sisters suffered from. Regular check-ups show no sign of the disease and my eyesight is excellent. (It's not a proven medical procedure though and I'm not a doctor.)
I don’t give the routine much thought, just throw my head back, squeeze in the drops then dab up excess with a tissue. This morning I took up my usual stance in front of the bathroom mirror. Just in case I needed to check where my eyes were again, you understand. As usual I flung my head back just as Tiggomy flung himself against the unlocked bathroom door which swung open, exactly meeting the top of my head.
It hurt so much I couldn’t speak or shriek and that cat, having gained access to the room I was occupying, positioned himself on the bathmat to perform his ablutions. After seeing stars for a minute or so I sat on the handy stool and waited for the room to stop spinning.
Tiggomy was calmly washing himself and I calmly resisted the urge to remove him from the bathroom with my foot. He regularly trips me up, both literally and figuratively. He’s even drawn blood when playtime has gone on too long for his liking. His best trick is rucking up the hall runner and hoping I’ll trip over it.
I’m a wakeup to that one though. I see you, Tigg.
What a great photo Julie, cheeky, naughty, and loveable all beautifully captured!