I'm surprised Dave mentioned his kitty, It wasn't long ago that Dave related
the following story about his cat, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone but he
sorta opened the door:
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable.
No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss
thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied
anyway because the truth was too humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had
sustained an injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By
then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt
a cute little kitty. Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one
morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out
to me from the kitchen. "Dave! The garbage disposal is bad. Come reset it."
"You know where the button is." I protested through the shower
(pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded.
"What if it starts going and sucks me in?" (Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a
second."
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a "statement"
about how her cowardly behavior was not without
consequence. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to
find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It
struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances.
Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It
was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied
between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I
took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable,
she leaped at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her
needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements,
while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a
kitten hanging from my masculine region.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in
this predicament, choose only the "flight"
option. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded
my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the
paramedics stood over me.
Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to
conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter.
On the job, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me.
I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the
matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.
Yeah! We understand Dave ;)
Thomas Clawson
1959 3800
Keystone, Oklahoma
oletrucks is devoted to Chevy and GM trucks built between 1941 and 1959
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