It wasn’t daylight, but a little bit of light trickled through the curtains.
I wasn’t quite awake. I knew that a cat had been headbutting my arm for a little while, purring very loudly.
Suddenly, I was in pain. My forearm. Ow. My forearm. Ow. My eyes flew open and six inches away were another set of eyes. Cuthbert’s eyes.
His teeth were in my arm.
His paws were wrapped around my arm.
His eyes were on mine.
His body language spoke of delight in tackling this large cat toy.
I twitched my arm. He held on. I squawked. He held on.
I blew a puff of air up his nose.
He let go and bounced away.
He came back later, but I walloped him with a pillow.
Deaf cats who think I’m a chew toy are extremely annoying.
That is all.
Ouch! Sounds like he uses his deaf cat status to the max.
One of ours was up all night playing with one of those plastic balls with a bell inside. ‘Dunno why she was suddenly so obsessed with it, but by this morning she was carrying it up on the bed and dropping it off the edge.
Deaf, schmeaf — he’s just being a cat, making sure you know who’s really in charge. (And all this time you thought it was you.)