So it was a normal Saturday: me reading the paper and struggling with the frickin' cryptic crossword puzzle, Louis the cat out on his leash stalking chipmunks. But then a grey blur ran past my front door followed by a big white blur. Louis was being chased and terorized by a dog. I ran to his rescue - he was very upset, don't you know. Cujo wouldn't stop. I grabbed Louis and tried to boot Cujo away. Louis bit me. But we got safely inside.

Having heard horror stories of people losing their limbs to cat bites (well, they were hospitalized at least), I did what I do best: I fretted. Did I apply the Polysporin™ in time? Did I clean out the wound enough? Was I gonna die?

So I went to the Parry Sound hospital emergency. They gave me this:

Then they gave me a prescription to fight infection (see, it DOES happen! Better safe than sorry, eh?) Then they patched my swollen hand up:

Needless to say, Louis is very quiet now, doesn't want to go out anymore. Doesn't he look so very traumatized?

Oh the suffering. Oh the humanity.