Sometimes when I’m sleeping, papa or mama comes up to rub me just because, as papa says, “Loulou is like the Buddha—you just want to reach out and touch her when you pass by”, but sometimes, too, when they do that, I leap straight in the air out of my kitty-dreams and think “What the hell?”
And then they rub and rub me and say that everything is okay and that they’re sorry for disturbing my (rare) moment of deep sleep (haha), but I think that reaction is what happens to people who are blithely walking along, minding their own business, thinking about whatever thoughts anthros get lost in and bammo! Flat on your face!
Well, this happened to mama, but not when she was sleeping. She was walking! Too fast, as usual, hurrying to an appointment, when her not-glued-down-quite-to-the-tip shoe caught on a piece of wire that our local bar weaves through their tables and chairs to keep them from being carted off. Down she went, now joining the ranks of several friends who have stumbled, splatted, broken bones or sprained ankles in the last month. Maybe it’s January when these things happen…hmmmm.
So she gathered herself up and went into our local bar and asked for ice and slapped it on the knee and that seemed to keep the swelling at bay. So if someone wakes you out of a dreamy sleep by rubbing on you and you leap into the air, banging your little head against the headboard or pulling a muscle or stubbing your little paw on the mirror that hangs over your sleep area, just ask for some ice, tout de suite!
It’s good for burns, too, if you put it on right away, but I’ve stopped helping mama in the kitchen after my little fur coat was singed every so slightly when I got too close to her desk lamp.
But the next time I leap out of a nightmare and tumble onto the floor, it had better be because I woke myself up and not some anthros unable to hold back their adoration!
When I’m headed for the zzzzzzs, I don’t need those anthros pawing over me, so to speak…
And I certainly don’t want ice on my little warm body!
