Cat-related injuries. It’s an epidemic.

I am a klutz. I’ve always been a klutz. I trip over things it should be impossible to trip over, I run into things that weren’t even remotely in my way and I’m covered in bruises.


There was the time that I got off a machine at the gym, bent down to pick up my bag and smashed my forehead into the arm that holds the plates on the leg press that was next to me. That left a dent. I was shocked it didn’t split my head open.


I put a knife through my hand emptying the dishwasher. That was two stitches.

I know. It’s kinda gross.


I sliced my shin open moving a broken mirror while trying on outfits for my 7th grade picture day. Stitches…haute couture accessory!


I fell off a docked sailboat while getting off onto the dock, straddling the rope that moored it — resulting in the only broken bone I’ve ever had — tailbone. At least I think I broke it, I couldn’t sit for weeks. It still aches a little while doing lunges.


Last night I caught my thumb in the door hinge while closing it. Not sure how I did that, really.


These are just a few examples of why I own the title “Princess Grace.”


So. WHY do I have cats that add to the injury tally? Today, I closed my foot in the door because I thought I stepped on one of them and put my weight back on the foot that I was in the process of moving out of the way of the closing door. This wasn’t REALLY the cats’ fault, the rug had bunched up and that’s what I stepped on…but if the cats didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have thought I stepped on one.

He is TRYING to kill me.


So many times I’ve had to attempt extreme body contortion to grab the railing of the stairs while going down or up when a cat ran underfoot. Countless pulled muscles there.


I’ve had more than one lovely black and blue mark from the cats chasing each other at full speed and I had the AUDACITY to have my leg in the way. Those little buggers have really hard heads. This also causes a rise in my anxiety levels as I watch for signs of concussion. I don’t even know if cats get concussed, yet this is a valid concern for me.


And the scratches. Dear lord. I have more scar tissue than…I don’t know, someone with a lot of scar tissue. Moosh is usually pretty good with the perching on the shoulders but every once in awhile he loses his footing and my chest gets the bloody end of the stick. My most unfavorite is when I’m holding one or the other and something spooks them, resulting in an unwelcome claw stuck in the skin, while I frantically try to stop the spooked cat from flailing and attempting to remove said claw with the least amount of damage possible. And it’s always somewhere fleshy and painful, like a boob or armpit.

See that evil look?


My conclusion is this: my cats will outlive me.


  1. rouschel

    I have a tendency to my clumsy as well. I am so afraid that I am going to stab myself the exact same way that you did that I’m obsessive about putting knives in the strainer point down.. even the bread knives.

    • MEOWhearthis

      That happened when my boyfriend and I first moved in together…I’d never had a dishwasher before and it never occurred to me that blade up was dangerous. The whole time we were at the hospital I was paranoid that everyone there thought it was spouse abuse because it sounded like such a ridiculous thing to do to one’s self.

      • rouschel

        ROFL. I love that you brought that up. My husband and I are always joking around with eachother when one of us gets a bruise in an obvious place. We tell people things like “She wouldn’t listen” or “I had to shut him up”.
        It took a real turn when I feel on the crumbling curb out front and had to go to the doctor. He didn’t seem to have an issue, but the insurance company thought the report sounded weird. They issued a lot of paperwork about needing lawyer’s signatures and third party signatures. It was a lot of hassle to convince them that nothing happened other than me falling.

      • MEOWhearthis

        My thighs are always bruised from working at UPS and dropping/slamming/getting hit with boxes…there are always “boyfriend beat ya up?” comments there, which further shows the low IQ levels there since a) the boyfriend also works there and b) they’re all well aware of my ability to injure myself and have witnessed many injurings firsthand.

        I’ve gotten the insurance stuff too, given that I am always hurting something that requires a doctor’s note. You’d think they might see my long history of random injuries and realize I’m just a klutz and there’s no one else to sue to get their money back.

  2. Wazeau

    Absolutely prime cat claw spots you hit on – armpits and boobs, always. That and the inside thigh when they panic whilst keeping ones lap warm.

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