I guess you had to be there...

The cats have both been sitting facing the wall on the arm of the couch. It looks really weird. Maybe they're protecting us from the monsters. That's what I tell the kids when they get scared at night. No monsters will mess with our house, because we have so many animals to attack them. Biddy Bad Ass would make mincemeat of them. Fortunately, they don't seem to realize that Kaya would just see a monster as another set of hands to pet her (more than a pair if it's a cool monster). Asia would run like the wind and hide in the smallest, most remote corner of the house, which isn't much in the way of protection. He only attacks me, the dog, and Biddy, and I still have the scars to prove it.

He's only freaked out one time. It was when the dog was still new in the house. The cats were out on the screened porch, and the dog was visiting and checking them out. I was getting them ready to come in, so I could shut the door, but when I picked up Biddy, she started yowling and making all kinds of horrible noises. Asia must have seen that as his opportunity to off Biddy and started attacking her. That got the dog interested, so she got in the fray, nipping at both cats. Asia was flying through the air like The Great Furbini, first at Biddy, then at Kaya. I'm yelling at them (it was after midnight, mind you), like that was going to get them all to quit. I finally grabbed the dog's collar and started hauling her off the porch with brute force. Dumbass Asia decided this was the perfect opportunity to attack the dog, you know, get her while she's weak (held by a collar). So he flies through the air at her and then at me. For a cat with no front claws, he fucked me up. I had four deep puncture wounds on the back of my right calf, but I stayed focus and dragged my poor, choking dog to her kennel where she would be safe from Draculasia. Little pisser took off after that when I threatened to have him freeze-dried and mounted. I'm sure he understood me.

The whole path from porch to dog kennel, which was located in the living room at that time, stunk from Asia releasing his super-stink. Whenever he gets scared or goes into attack mode, he lets off some funky stank like a damn skunk. It's God-awful, and we can't stand to be near him for at least a day after he's done this. All of the fur family smelled like it this time, because he was throwing himself at them, and I smelled like it too. Like it wasn't bad enough that I was bleeding profusely from the back of my leg, but I had to smell like Asia funk.

I stood in the shower and cried. The kids were already in bed, and John was gone for some reason, so I was by myself and able to bawl my eyes out without feeling like a sopping baby. The dog was still a very new member of the family, and after having such a bad experience with the first dog we brought home as a foster furchild, I was worried that no dog would work in our family of established cats, no matter how nice she was. Not to mention my leg hurt like hell. Now that I'm past all that, I can laugh about watching my cat springing through the air like a flying squirrel at us, but I do have scars on the back of my leg that look like a toddler vampire went at me. It's the mark of a story that's only funny to me.

Speaking of you had to be there stories, I have to remember to tell about the chocolate lab poop story, and the Rock the Cat's Balls story. The band is good for some entertaining stories at least.