As some of you know I am not what you would call a “fan” of Chuckles’ cat, Poopsicle. In fact, Chuckles has threatened to have an autopsy done when Poopsicle kicks the bucket because he alreadys suspects me of plotting her death. But I always try to be nice to her and if not nice at least tolerant, but, as of this morning, Poopsicle is officially scared of me.
At first I felt bad about this, but now I think it’s not such a bad thing; maybe now she’ll stop drooling on me or rubbing her face against my glasses (supposedly to itch a hard to reach spot, but I think she’s just trying to annoy the hell out of me…and succeeding).
I think she first started to be fearful of me when I was making a pesto sauce last night and she was in the utility room, which is right next to the kitchen, and I started the blender every time she tried to leave the utility room, which would cause her to run and hide every time. I swear I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but she started to become very suspicious of me.
Then this morning when I was in a huge hurry because I was running very late she ran right in front of me and I stepped right on top of her. After hissing at me she spent the rest of the morning hiding behind the washer and dryer. Believe me when I say this is quite unusual because usually she won’t let anything get in the way of her begging for more food.
Anyway, I really hope that when I get home tonight she continues to hide behind the washer instead of running around me and whining while I do yoga, which, in fact, does bring out murderous tendencies that will inevitably be directed towards her.