Not for the squeamish, I assure you

Yesterday, early morning, the cats were using me as a jungle gym while I was trying to sleep. I had a foot hanging out of the covers and one of them (I suspect the fatter one) landed on it with a flying leap and used it as a launchpad to fling herself into something else. It hurt but not enough to make me get up until I'm supposed to.

Cut to much later that day. I get home and discover that my right shoe has filled with blood and determine that the morning cat antics have resulted in a rather large and deep slice across the bottom of my foot and a not as deep one across the top. It didn't look bad at first but apparently a day of putting my rather considerable weight on it had caused it to split open and get all gross and stuff. I had to soak my foot in a basin of very hot water just so I could peel my stocking off.

I know tons of people with cats, TONS, and none of them have ever had as many bloody injuries from theirs as I have had. I must be doing something wrong. Maybe animals just want to maim me? Like that giant Newfoundland at that yarn store in Santa Monica that I decided to be nice to and pet? He decided once was not enough and patted my leg to get more attention. I obliged him but he didn't feel very clean so I stopped. He was not happy with that and patted my leg some more, like he was scratching at the door. I looked everywhere but no one claimed ownership of him and he kept smacking at me until he came near to knocking me over and I paid for my yarn and made a run for it. Once home, examination revealed my calf was covered in big red welts. Maybe I need to be meaner to animals.