[Leica] My kitty

[sethrosner at nycap.rr.com (Seth Rosner)]

Jerry's back-and-forth with Doug and Douglas compels me to forward to the 
list an hilarious email rec'd yesterday from Ken Rankin, a senior American 
Airlines exec and a high-end Leica purveyor of Leicas and Leica gear on 
eBay. With apologies to those with sensibilities:

THE CAT
With everyone stressed-out and over-worked  - this will take some of the 
stress away.  As Dr. Phil says it's good for the soul!  Here is some poor 
man's experience with his wife's cat.

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable.  No matter how legitimate my 
excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.  On one 
recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was 
just too darned humiliating.  I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head 
injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day.  By then, I 
reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my 
head.  The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's 
wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no 
problem.

Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my 
wife, Deb, called out to me from the kitchen.  "Honey! The garbage disposal 
is dead again. Please come reset it."

"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter 
and steam.  "Reset it yourself!"

"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"

There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a 
second."

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged 
nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as 
extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the 
button.  ...It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.  No, 
it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.  It 
was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied 
hanging between my legs.  She had been poised around the corner and stalked 
me as I reached under the sink.  And, at the precise moment when 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, blindly moving 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.  I know this from experience.

I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and 
forcefully impeded my ascent.  The impact knocked me
out cold.  When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.  Now 
there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on 
the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" 
paramedics.  Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the 
paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all 
the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter.... and not 
succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in 
to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about 
my head injury.  I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, 
which it was.

"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"

If they only knew!