A Real Life Halloween Horror Story.  

So, over COVID , to help lift moods and family morale, Missy Hooks Dollahon thought that it would be a good idea for us to foster kittens.  I am not an “animal person”, mind you, but gamely went along with the scheme in the spirit of unity.

Our first litter was a mom and five kittens...and that went well enough...but this second litter...three little rascals...are monster biters and scratchers!  They also, oddly love me, although I don’t give them any attention.  I can’t sit still without one of them climbing up on me and eventually biting my knee or knuckle.  Little #^%ers!!!

At night, they sometimes sneak in our bedroom and because I’m a big warm lumpy guy tuck themselves within the folds and creases of my beautiful, fleshy corpus.  This is a little terrifying in that I live in drowsy fear that I’ll roll over and utterly pancake one of them unknowingly...

But, sometimes they like to “play”.  In the darkest pit of night.  Which means they skitter about me and eventually - always - bite me somewhere painful.  Like the thin, parchment skin around my ankles...or a toe...

I will then have to get up and round them all up and then throw them outside our bedroom and firmly lock the door.

So the other night...  The kittens entered our bedroom and found Their Favorite...and like other nights couched themselves purring and peaceful around their most cherished “jelly rolls”....and then, hours later...roused themselves for a bit of midnight fun...and as they minced and capered around me one of them saw something inviting and intriguing to naw on...there...just in neath the thinnest price of fabric...

I SAT UP AND SHRIEKED IN BLINDING PAIN.   

Yes...

One of the kittens had decided to chomp down hard atop what is sometimes medically described as ones “Hooded Warrior”.  

My “Top Hat and Tails”.

My “Meat With Two Veg”.

Tiny little fang-like daggers...eager to make mince of Your Trusted Author’s “Master Of Ceremonies”.

I am still in recovery.