It all started innocently enough. I decided that I had wasted enough time on my gaming computer, playing some horse riding game where yours-truly was winning blue ribbon after blue ribbon in dressage, show jumping and cross country riding. So off I went to produce more resin cameos for my pendants. First thing I normally do is close the door to my studio. Why? Because I have two curious felines who love nothing more than sampling all manners of items with their mouths like two year old infants. Chemicals and mouthy kittens don't mix!! I managed to produce 7 cameos in one go. All was well... Or so I thought! After pulling the castings out of the moulds, I normally use a sharp blade to de-bur the imperfections... That's when "injury #1" occurred. The blade slipped off the smooth surface and caught me straight into my left thumb. I now sported a deep gash that was pissing blood everywhere. I promptly grabbed a tissue and lifted my arm higher than my heart in order to slow the blood flow... To no avail. So I rushed out of my room to make my way to the bathroom, but as I opened the door, Mia was waiting outside, curious as ever to find out why my door had been closed. She was gonna run the gauntlet to try and weasel her why pass me, so in my haste to prevent her from doing so, I went to slam the door shut behind me. I had no idea how lightly ajar the door was and so I miscalculated how fast I needed to pull my hand away before it hit the door frame... That's when "injury #2" happened. The knuckle of my right middle finger got crushed between the door and the frame. This was quickly followed by a stream of French-Canadian profanities, conjugated into one long sentence. I was now doing the chicken dance, holding my throbbing right hand and with my bleeding left one. The scene was nothing short of a Monty Python movie! The good news is, I've managed to stitch the finger together by tightly wounding a band-aid around it, and an immediate pack of ice on the knuckle seems to have lessen the trauma damage.
I swear to God!!! Mia is not only a menace to herself but to us also. Not only do we need to protect her from her own stupidity, but we need to protect ourselves from it too. I am not the only one who has recently suffered from her naive silliness and impulsive reactions... The other day, hubby tried to stop her from bolting in the garage by blocking her with his foot, only to end up severely bashing one of his toes against the door. He now sports a purple, crooked broken toe (yes, it IS broken.) And to add insult to his injury, when I was doing my rendition of the Funky Chicken Dance in the bathroom, Mia, who was distraught by all the commotion, came to see him for comfort. While curling around his legs, she stepped on his broken toe. This cat will be the death of us both!!! Why am I reminded by a 70's horror movie with Peter Cushing called "Uncanny"!?! Seriously... I should've kept on playing my game... It would've been a safer choice.