Felines can be hazardous to your health
Phouka and I have this little routine when I come home from work. He sits on the table beside the couch and waits for the odd scritch and a little sweet talk while I put down whatever I'm carrying, take off my coat and head for the bedroom to change. He's right along with me, jumping on the bed and pacing back and forth, again waiting for a little love, until I strip and redress in housewear (shorts and a tank or sweats and a T depending on the weather). Then he'll rear up on his hind legs and lean against me for a little intense ear rubbing and chin/cheek scratching for a few moments. I'll stop and he'll do the tippy-toe dance, stretching his 'arms' up further to be picked up. I'll scoop him up and carry him into the bathroom with me and set him on the counter while I tee-tee.
Today it would have been an abbreviated make-out session because I really needed to go to the bathroom. Then I began sneezing. Sneezing with an extended bladder is not something women of a certain age like to do. So instead of giving Phouka his love I just made quickly for the bathroom. Unfortunately Phouka wasn't fazed by the change in the routine and darted for the bathroom, too. Under my feet. I damn near did a header into the wall but saved myself at the expense of a jammed finger and a whacked elbow.
Phouka jumped into the bath tub (right next to the toilet). I was cussing up a storm when I got in there, only to have him fly out of the tub and use my bare toes as a landing pad/spring board with his little claws for traction. I tripped, rammed my already sore knee into the side of the tub and jammed another finger stopping myself from falling headfirst into the bathtub.
I guess this is just Phouka's way of saying 'Welcome home, Dawn!'.
Today it would have been an abbreviated make-out session because I really needed to go to the bathroom. Then I began sneezing. Sneezing with an extended bladder is not something women of a certain age like to do. So instead of giving Phouka his love I just made quickly for the bathroom. Unfortunately Phouka wasn't fazed by the change in the routine and darted for the bathroom, too. Under my feet. I damn near did a header into the wall but saved myself at the expense of a jammed finger and a whacked elbow.
Phouka jumped into the bath tub (right next to the toilet). I was cussing up a storm when I got in there, only to have him fly out of the tub and use my bare toes as a landing pad/spring board with his little claws for traction. I tripped, rammed my already sore knee into the side of the tub and jammed another finger stopping myself from falling headfirst into the bathtub.
I guess this is just Phouka's way of saying 'Welcome home, Dawn!'.