Tales from the Dork Side: Calamity Jane Pissed on Me

Calamity Jane is angry at me for some reason and, in turn, I’m angry at that dumb little cat. I woke up on the couch this morning, startled by both the morning noise in the kitchen and by Calamity Jane having a one-cat stampede around the living room. It’s the same stampede, I assume, continued from last night. I’d been trying my damnedest to read three books at once, my head bobbing as I’d drift off while reading every second paragraph, and Calamity would suddenly go bolting around the room, flying over furniture, bouncing off the walls (literally), and nearly knocking over TV tables placed inconveniently in her path.

She’s not normally that obnoxious, so the prospect of a pending earthquake crossed my mind, which was worrying. I got up and put on pants because I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of potentially having to run outdoors in granny panties should the house begin to violently shake and crumble. Pants on, I went back to my reading and eventually nodded off.

A little while later I woke up to kid noise, the microwave door slamming, Vin stirring his coffee with what sounded an awful lot like a metal wind chime, and Calamity’s continued crazy-run. And I was mostly feeling pretty warn and cozy, except one spot on my right leg didn’t feel right. Kind of extra warm. I reached down to discover it was wet. And I was bewildered, because I normally don’t pee my pants while I’m sleeping, and if I do (which I don’t), I don’t pee on my knee while completely missing my crotch in the process.

Then it dawned on me; klutzy kids. Sometimes they’re oblivious and spill things, so I called out to Vin to ask what Gadget had spilled on me.

“Gadget hasn’t come out of his room yet, he’s still getting dressed. What are you talking about?”

“Well, then, what did Eeth spill on me?”

“Um, nothing. He’s just now fixing his morning coffee. Why? What’s up?”

“SOMEBODY spilled SOMETHING, because my leg is all wet. And, by the way, I didn’t pee myself. My crotch is dry.”

Vin smelled my knee. “Umm, that’s cat piss.”

And just then Calamity bolted at me, bouncing off the arm of the couch right onto my face, rebounding over the back of the couch, then back at me, her back foot landing squarely in my left eye – her back claws missing my cornea by a split millisecond as I instinctively slammed my eyelid shut.

“WHAT THE FUCK!! She nearly took out my one good eye! Why does Calamity suddenly hate me?”

Vin pulled off my blanket, his face contorted in a half-smirk, possibly afraid to laugh. I slipped out of my pants so he could throw the peed-on stuff in the wash. I slunkered to the bathroom, too tired to shower off, so I gave myself a bath with Lysol wipes while having my morning pee. I smelled lemony fresh and somewhat antiseptic as I settled back into bed… my own bed… and slept once more.

And I awoke to another strange sound. Was I dreaming, or was there a fish flopping around in the master bathroom? I got up to check.

“The fuck? Vin! Why is there water all over the toilet seat and all over… just everywhere? And wet TP on the seat? Slobs! Ugh!” I grabbed an old rag and started to wipe it all up.

And then I discovered little wet pawprints leading from the toilet to the door, and an evil grin spread from one of my ears to the other. I tracked the prints out to the hall like a sleuth, and there was Calamity Jane. And she was sopping, little wet bits of toilet paper stuck all over her legs and tail, and she was violently trying to lick it all off.


I win.

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