There is a special place in my heart for a cat named Slap-Chop. That’s not really her name but thanks to me, it’s now her common-law name. Because I said so.
She lives at FS’s house and during a perfectly lovely pie-baking/ choco-wine-drinking afternoon, she attempted to eat off half of my face. I had picked her up gently and was petting and talking to her when hell broke loose. No warning, no mercy, and she didn’t even wash her little paws before she proceeded to poke holes in my face with them.
[Disclaimer: my pride was the only thing actually injured during my dermal aeration procedure. ]
I’m not feeling too special though because she apparently picks fights with anything that moves. Including tumbleweeds.
If y’all haven’t seen one, the slap-chop is a small appliance that you set over anything that needs dicing. Then you slam your hand down and evil little blades make easy work of your tomatoes/fingers/face. See comparison photo below:
Minor Emergencies 