House Pets

The Squigster has recovered.

No more red fin, no more internal bleeding, no more sleepless nights watching the tank for signs of distress. Everything's going to be A-OK. Which is quite a relief, since flushing Squiggy down the toilet was never an option, which of course would have put a total kibosh on the septic system.

But now my thumb is throbbing.

Emma chomped on it something fierce last night as I was feeding her kitty treats. All in all, it was really my fault because I was trying to get her to do pet tricks, even though she wasn't the least bit amused by dancing for her supper. Emma however has been suffering from twinges of guilt ever since. She's spent most of today following me around the house being all lovey dovey to express her apologies.

But I wouldn't have guessed how much a bite from a cat could hurt.

It was excruciating pain ... A lot of it. She managed to pierce through my skin in two spots, as well as crush the top of my nail with her killer bite. Which all in all, made me consider two things:

(1) There is no way in hell I would ever willingly stick my head into a tigers mouth.
and
(2) If a small little cat could inflect such a terrible amount of pain, I absolutely recede my resolution to swim with sharks for something a little less prone to eating man. Perhaps goldfish are the better choice.