M – Y Crooked Finger, Crooked Finger

Ya’ll remember that song we learned in order to spell Ole Miss? Do teachers still use little tricks like that or am I totally dating myself?

M ICrooked Letter, Crooked Letter, I , Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, I , Humpback, Humpback, I

My fear and loathing for all things feline is well documented. I mention to ya’ll often and even wrote something here about the incident that really set things off.  Most of the run ins I’ve had with those despicable creatures are but a memory. However, one such moment has left a mark that can never be erased. Literally.

2004 had some ups and downs.  Down – I was laid off 2 months before the best party of the year.  Up – That party was our wedding!  *lol*  So, after exchanging vows and partying like rock stars with 150 oh so special folks, we had a fabulous honeymoon in Vegas.  Upon returning home, MrTDJ went back to work and I went hard core into job search mode.  During those unemployed days, I spent hours searching for job, then mixed my days up with visits to my mother and mid day shopping in uncrowded stores.  (Do any of ya’ll know the joy of shopping in a practically empty grocery store at 10:30am on a Tuesday?  Heaven!)

Anyways, during this time, we lived in a corner house.  It was a single family home, but long and narrow, like a shotgun style, row home.  The house was surrounded by a simple chain link fence and sat back from the curb about 20 yards.  Once you entered through the gate, you climbed two steps and walked up a pathway to the front porch.  Right as you reached the porch, you had the option to continue straight onto the porch or turn left to follow the path along the side of the house, into the backyard.  Make sense?  I tried to find a pic to illustrate and the one above is the closest I could find.  Normally, I parked my car in front of the house, on the street and hubby parked in the driveway.  He’s definitely the chivalrous type, but you could only access the driveway from the alley behind our house and I wanted NO parts of that area.

Why? I’ll tell you.  We lived in D.C. at the time.  Not the ‘burbs in Maryland or Virginia, but actually in the city.  We were in a neighborhood that was starting to experience gentrification, but it was definitely another 5-6 years coming.  So, there were still abandoned buildings and corner boys, mixed in with 400K homes and brand new condos.  By default, there were plenty of alleys, with loose trash and dumpsters.  And of course, who is attracted to trash?  Ding ding dingstray and wild cats! Ugh!

One day, I returned home after doing a little grocery shopping.   Took my bags out the car and started walking up the pathway to the house.  When I got about 5 yards from the porch steps, a creepy, stealthy, very sinister looking, ashy grey cat appeared from the side of the house.  He was on the side path and heading toward me.  Holy hell!

What to do???????????????????? My keys were in my hand, but could I get to the door in time????

Had I been in my car, I’d have access to the cup of pennies that I keep in order to throw at stray cats that used to sit in front of our house.

Had I actually been on the porch, I could have grabbed the BB gun that hubby kept under the bench for me to shoot at them.

But, no.  I wasn’t in either of those places.  I was outsideOn the path. Alone and exposed.

While I was debating my options, mister sneaky paws was steadily creeping toward me.  When he was about 5 yards from me, I knew I had to move or he’d attack me and I’d be his best meal yet.  In what seemed like one fluid movement, I turned back toward the house, sprinted up the porch steps, slid my key into the lock, barreled through the front door and slammed it behind me.

Whew!!! Close!!!  I stood there, motionless for a minute relieved that I had outrun the panther.  As the adrenaline rush started to subside and my breathing returned to normal, I noticed a dull, ache in my right hand.  I looked down and realized that I had crushed my right hand between the door and door frame, directly on the strike plate to the door knob. Good gracious all mighty!!  Upon seeing it, I started to panic.  What was a dull ache instantly turned into a red hot, burning, nauseating pain.  Not knowing what else to do, I dropped the groceries from my left hand and opened the door to release my hand.  In retrospect, I shouldn’t have looked, but I did.  My right hand was bloody and mangled.  My pointer finger and middle fingers were bent at very unnatural angles, their nails crushed and blood dripping.  I did what I think anyone would have down – screamed and then fainted.

When I came to, I wrapped my hand in a towel, popped 4 Tyle.nol and drove myself to Urgent Care.  Hours later, one tetanus shot, 2 big azz needles, 32 stitches, and a freaking hand splint to immobilize both fingers, I returned home.  And don’t you know when I pulled up, a different damn cat was sitting on my front porch?  I can just imagine his greeting, “Welcome home sucka!  How’s that hand?”  It’s fugged up!  Yep, fugged up.  Both fingers no longer point straight like the rest of my fingers and the nail bed on my pointer is curved.  Bastards.  Every single cat that has ever tortured me.  All of ‘em.

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32 thoughts on “M – Y Crooked Finger, Crooked Finger

  1. I have an urge to giggle and make fun of your loathing of the cats. Probably a passive aggressive response to the fact that my mother feels the same way. IDK… your writing is so funny and engaging. I am sorry that you mangled your hand though, but – I must point out – that I think you torture yourself more than the cats torture you. Although it was quite unfair for another one to be perched on your porch when you were in pain. You fainted? Good grief! I’m glad you didn’t hurt yourself more.

    BTW: Thanks for your comment on my poll post and having me in your Google reader. I liked your comment about not visiting or following ’cause someone does.

    Hope the hand is better now.

    • Girl, giggle away! It took a few months for me to see the humor in it, but I’m cool now.
      I don’t buy it. I am 100% convinced that the cats are united in a secret plot to destroy me.
      Re: commenting – yeah, I’ll normally visit once if someone new visits me, but I don’t feel compelled to return if the content doesn’t appeal to me.

  2. The story was hilarious! But OMG! Yes you have major fear of cats! I would’ve wanted that cat to die after all the trauma! I’m glad ya’ll moved LOL!

  3. My husband and I always joke when we hurt ourselves doing something stupid or extra. But this was a serious injury! I bet you wish you would have reacted differently. I always fear the same type of thing is going to happen to me when I am running from a bug or something. That injury was cringe worthy.

    • I do! I so wish that I was able to control my actions as they relate to cats. But the fear is so irrational and all consuming that I can’t. =(
      For your sake, I hope that no bugs make you harm yourself.

  4. I should have went to bed instead of pulling out the ‘puter to catch up on g-reader….

    BWAAAAHAAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA!!!!! Slayed in the spirit. I’m sorry you mangled your hand and that you can’t even give a straight up Celie Curse point at a cat no mo. *tears welling up* But that story was funny as hell (yeah, I know – I’m a cat owner). You had me dead on the floor with “And don’t you know when I pulled up, a different damn cat was sitting on my front porch? I can just imagine his greeting, “Welcome home sucka! How’s that hand?”

    I will always put my creepy, stealthies away for ya! *wipes tears*
    I love ya, ya know.

    • I can’t lie – it’s funny now to me too. The years have taken the “pain” away! And I just KNOW that his punk butt was thinking something like that. It’s like I can read their damn minds! And nope, they probably think I’m beckoning them to come closer with these little crooked fingers now. Yeah, yeah, I can feel the love!

  5. Wow this story is something else! Dang, you passed out all along? I’m so glad that you are ok. I don’t like cats even though I grew up with them in the house. My mother had a Simese cat and I just basically didn’t have anything to do with him.. One morning after returning from college, I awoke to something laying on my neck. I couldn’t move and I was scared to open my eyes. I was whispering help me, please help me. Somehow dad heard me and came and took the cat off my neck. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, just glad to see me. Don’t know why since I didn’t interact with him.

    But the thing is, cats bother me when they hunch up to you. I don’t understand that.
    I am a little cute dog lover.
    Still though, I understand your trauma, just glad you’re ok…

    • Nerp! I’m calling a foul on that call – that little devil WAS trying to hurt you and you’ll never convince me of anything different. Ugh!
      And yes, the hunch is creepy as h*ll!

  6. Holy Crap–that is serious! I am deathly afraid of frogs/toads but thank God I have not injured myself (yet). I know that it’s just a matter of time though before I do. My fearless husband thinks that my phobia is ridiculous but I have some stories to support my fears. Maybe one day I will do a post about my fear of those nasty creatures. Eww!

    Oh by the way, I just gave you blog award so come by and get it when you have time.

    • It’s so hard to explain true phobia to most people! At least frogs/toads aren’t too abundant, depending on where you live?
      I hope, for your sake, that you don’t injure yourself.

    • Um, yeah, I’m gonna have to share that story another day! *lol* I’m even too scared to try to hit them. Seriously?? I’m INSIDE a big azz car that could pulverize every bone in their body, but nope, too scared. *smh*

  7. Playing catchup –
    I just have to say that your written recollection of this story is just as dramatic and hilarious (sorry, hon) as it is in-person. Oh, how I love thee *lol* From now on I will personally escort you up to my place in order to ensure no feline encounters 🙂

    P.S. I really should not be making fun of you because had that sucka been a rat (or even a small field mouse) I would’ve had the EXACT same reaction 😦

  8. Damn girl. That was quite an ordeal. The poor cat probably just kept on about his day like nothing happened. Girl don’t you hurt yourself like that again.

    I can’t even talk cause I have the same reactions to bugs. I’ve got to get rid of it before I hurt myself as you did in this situation. I think we are more harmful to ourselves than the creatures we fear.

  9. No the worst cat episode was at my house when we lived in Roosevelt. Remember Chucks cat got upstairs and you thought I was playing a trick on you under the table. You looked down and all hell broke loose. The scream from death came out your mouth. Lol too funny.

  10. Pingback: Throw Your Hands Up!!! « Just Another Day with MrsTDJ

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