My New Name Is Scar Face

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I didn't know where else to post this so I'll do it here.
A neighbor of ours has a new kitten and went out of town for a day or two and we said we'd check in on the new addition.
The new addition is very bold, very in your face (literally) and loves to play rough. Kitten spend a lot of time with litter mates and speaks good "Cat" based on their behavior with the resident adult, who tolerates no monkey business. If the resident cat tells this kitten to stop being an annoying kitten, the kitten goes on their side and freezes.
Not so with me.
I stopped in earlier to feed and play with and do the litter box thing and this kitten was a crazy thing, leaping onto my arms and legs in a way that would make most police K-9's look like dorks.
I am now scar face because this kitten was latched onto my hand/arm, biting like a mad cat and I made the bad mistake of locking eyes with this baby and kitten playfully lunged at my face and clawed over my eye and under my nose. I grabbed kitten instinctively. Kitten screamed the indignant scream of a kitten and I let kitten go.
So now, whenever I go somewhere and someone says "what happened to your face" I can say "my neighbors 8 week old kitten beat me up" and I know I'm not lying.
:doh2:
 
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1CatOverTheLine said:
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Much less now that I'm a member of the Bandage Of The Month Club.
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Click to expand...
Help me with premiums costs. What can I expect?
I have a nearby kitten that has caused playful injuries and an adult tortie that is STILL staring at me because her dinner is late.
I do sometimes think I will die at the hands (paws?) of cats that have zeroed in on a weak prey.
 
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I picked Diamond up when he had, unknown to me, a Urinary Tract Infection. I must have pressed his belly in just the wrong spot. Suddenly, I had a a cat in my arms with 4 windmilling legs, claws out. He left pretty quickly. I was kinda stunned. I had scratches on my arms, chest, neck and face. It was pretty obvious to everyone I met that I must have a cat. :angrycat::p

I was careful about picking up cats for a while after that. Their belly would get a good massage, just to make sure!
 
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Right after we got Hydrox, The Old Coot, as a wee kitten, he was sleeping between us in bed. Evidently, he awakened and became intrigued with my eyes moving as I slept. He gave me a wicked slash on my cheek under my left eye. What a rude awakening that was. That morning, I had to go into the hospital for blood work. I got some really funny looks. And a little old lady who was sitting next to me leaned over and said, "I take it you have a kitty?" :flail:

Feel better soon!
 
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Winchester said:
Right after we got Hydrox, The Old Coot, as a wee kitten, he was sleeping between us in bed. Evidently, he awakened and became intrigued with my eyes moving as I slept. He gave me a wicked slash on my cheek under my left eye. What a rude awakening that was. That morning, I had to go into the hospital for blood work. I got some really funny looks. And a little old lady who was sitting next to me leaned over and said, "I take it you have a kitty?" :flail:

Feel better soon!
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I'm not laughing AT you, really, just....
My youngest is fascinated with sleeping and dozing humans, and many times I've woke up on my back after a lazy doze to have her laying on my chest, paws neatly folded, eyes narrowed into slits, while staring at me as if she's whispering "....go back to sleep, weird human...."
It's creepy. It's just really, really creepy.
 
1CatOverTheLine

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Boris Diamond said:
I picked Diamond up when he had, unknown to me, a Urinary Tract Infection. I must have pressed his belly in just the wrong spot. Suddenly, I had a a cat in my arms with 4 windmilling legs, claws out. He left pretty quickly. I was kinda stunned. I had scratches on my arms, chest, neck and face. It was pretty obvious to everyone I met that I must have a cat.
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Boris Diamond Boris Diamond ...or that your masseur was Edward Scissorhands.
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1CatOverTheLine said:
Boris Diamond Boris Diamond ...or that your masseur was Edward Scissorhands.
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Click to expand...
Remember...Mr. Scissorhands had a very, VERY good heart and didn't want to hurt anyone!

(Years ago I nic-named a very, uh, feisty little girl cat "Fuzzy Scissorclaws" because no matter what you did, she wanted to shred you. Look at her wrong? Bam, you're shredded. Feeding time? Bam, you're shredded. Scooping the box? Bam, shredded. Vet time? Bam.....she, uh, hired a hit man, at least I'm kind of sure.....and I think he was inexperienced.)
 
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rgwanner said:
I foster kittens so I always have scratches on my legs They just go racing over. And one of my permanent cats gets over stimulated
I am petting him He is purring and the next thing I know claws are out. I need the info for bandage of the month club.
Click to expand...
We need a funny TSC bandage of the month club shirt, or bumper sticker, or something.
I grew up in a foster kitten/cat home, and it was so much fun...and so many band aids.
One litter in particular we fostered when I was a kid makes me laugh even as an adult... because they were ALL delightfully insane, not just one or two crazy pushy kittens and a few sweet, docile ones but this entire litter was nuts....in a good, funny way (not 8 week old Church's that make you think "OMG pet semetary" stuff.) They were just...so into stuff, so sure the world would not hurt them and that they were mighty lions and lionesses and had the world by the tail. So cute.
They were like fostering a weird breed of monkey crossed with a mutant macaw, somehow they learned to climb ANYTHING remotely vertical and loved doing a sneak attack on your feet and had a nice time murdering random household objects like newspapers, etc., with their tiny milk teeth and tiny back claws.
Three of the 5 were kittens I was silently hoping to keep...a little calico girl with a black nose (I'd never seen a calico with a black nose/toe pads and was really kind of fascinated), and her sister, a twin to her black nosed sister aside from the fact she had the typical pink nose, and a fluffy gray and white boy I named Mouse. All found homes, and Mouse was around for another month before an adopter was approved. I cried like a 3 year old that was roundhouse kicked in the face. I knew he wasn't here to stay but that hope that I would keep him was always there and he was the last to go...last to be fostered and the bond was there. Sending this little kitten I loved off was like slicing me in half. I kind of knew I'd never keep him and know now this was a good lesson in helping and fostering, but damn..
I know that these kittens have long ago died of old age, and I just hope they had good lives, and were happy.
...Which is probably why we have 9 cats now, argh and wouldn't turn down a really sick or sorry looking thing or a homeless kitten. I'm (we) are suckers.
 
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