A Stoney Story

My friend Sarah is celebrating the fifteenth anniversary of me wearing a pink gown. Okay, so she’s celebrating her wedding. But that pink dress was a big part of the day.

Back then I was still living with my parents and we had three cats: Stasha, Poco and Stoney. Stoney and I had a love/hate relationship. He loved my magic scritchy fingernails. I loved to pick on him.

One week before Sarah’s wedding, I was picking. I don’t really remember what I was doing to him but I do remember the moment he had had enough. He sighed. It was the heavy, through the nose sigh that said someone has to be pummeled. Since my picking was supposed to be good natured, I decided to leave him alone.

As I was walking away, something made me turn around.  I turned just in time to see Stoney launch his 20 pound fuzzy self at my head. I was able to get my forearm up to deflect him but I ended up with a huge gash down my arm, a deep black bruise from wrist to elbow, and a black eye because the force of the impact made me punch myself in the eye.

A week later, for the wedding, I accessorized my dusty rose dress with a bruise of plum and olive green topped off with a six inch long scab. It was not subtle. All of Sarah’s wedding pictures were rearranged so that arm could be away from the camera. The black eye, mercifully, had faded.

Please note that I am standing on the wrong side of the bride and my icky arm is behind her, but NOT touching the white dress.

There is still a thick line of scar near my elbow from the incident. There is another scar that crosses it from another incident where I pushed Stoney to the heavy sighing phase. Stoney, it seems, was not satisfied with leaving his mark on my memory.

Happy anniversary, Sarah and Jason!

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Today I bring you Chris’ June Bug and Miso. First, a little bit of InAndOutTV.

"Let me in!"

And then, a demonstration. On how to be sneaky. And how to be…less than sneaky.

"Some things are good for hiding."

"Some things are not."

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8 responses to “A Stoney Story

  1. I have so many cat-related scars on my arms and hands, I’ve actually had to convince doctors I’m not “a danger to myself.” At least, not in THAT way!

    • The cats scars are mixed in with the scars of me doing other stupid things. Like when I was lecturing another employee at the video store about her language and accidentally pressed my arm against the popcorn kettle (giving her some new combination of swear words). I am totally a danger to myself – but never on purpose!

  2. Wow, Miso and Junie featured on your blog! They are honored.

    Hardly a day passes without one of them doing something cute, evil, gross or hilarious! Do you think they think the same thing about us?

  3. Ouch! Esme has never wounded me bad enough to leave a scar…yet.

    Love the cactus pic!

  4. I wish you hadn’t reminded me of those pink dresses that didn’t fit and had to be altered with staples and masking tape. And who is that skinny girl?

  5. I just want you to know that I’m not the sort of cruel, heartless person who would laugh at someone else’s painful and disfiguring injuries. I just, um, happened to be thinking of a totally unrelated funny story while I was reading this.

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