Okay, so Oz needs to have his claws trimmed. Badly. He's a piece of cake to do, because he's just so incredibly laidback, but I need J to help me (J holds Oz while I trim the claws -- Ozzie's just too big and unwieldy for me to do it by myself) or to have Oz be half-asleep while I do it, and we just haven't got around to doing it.
Anyway, last night I was in the kitchen, preparing my lunch for the next day, when Oz comes in and decides he wants attention. Oz is not typically a needy cat (Spike is, though), and I'm in a bit of a rush making my lunch because the season finale of Bones was on in about five minutes, so I just ignored him. Now, Spike has this thing he does where he walks up to me, stands on his hind legs, and puts his front paws on my waist, usually hooking his claws into the pockets of my jeans. Oz has never done this before, but last night he decides to do so. However ... I'm not wearing thick jeans, I'm wearing thin pyjama bottoms. Oh, and he doesn't aim for my waist -- instead, Oz sinks his claws into my bum.
Ouch, ouch, ouch!
I yelp -- the PJs are so thin I might as well not be wearing anything at all, and like I said, Ozzie's claws are in desperate need of a trim. J hears me, rushes into the kitchen, and finds me clutching my butt and glowering at the cat. Oz, meanwhile, thinks this is just great -- his two favourite humans in the same room at the same time! awesome! -- and starts begging J for attention.
So I got to spend the first few minutes of the season finale of Bones with J applying antiseptic gel and Band-Aids to my backside. How very dignified. Not to mention ever-so-romantic.
Oz and I are not currently on speaking terms (this hasn't stopped him from seeking attention from me, mind you). For quite possibly the first time in his entire life, Spike is being known as "the good cat," which is a big shift from his usual position as household scapegoat (scapecat?). And meanwhile, my butt hurts. Ozzie and me are so in a fight!
