Death to Lucy.

My cat Lucy is terrified of everything! She is afraid of me scooting a chair across the floor. If I shut a door too hard she is under the bed for an hour, and if a man is in my house you will never see her for the rest of the day. But it's always different for "mommy."  I'm home a lot more than usual as of late and she likes to nuzzle me and tell me she loves me in her cat language of mews and guttural purrs.

Tonight was NOT an "I love you" night.  I called my brother Scott to check on some things in the weeks ahead.  He asked what was new and I told him how I'm 95% sure my wrist is fractured.  He told me to go get it looked at like a big brother should say.  I asked him what dates he is coming home from Christmas. BAM!  Out of nowhere Lucy decides to frantically run up and across my ankle, shin, knee, & inner thigh.  I yell out in pain, not sure what to say or what to do after that so I mutter a "hold on" into the phone as I set it down and start saying "Owww, owww, owww, owwww." repeatedly like it is going to hurt less if I keep saying it.  Meanwhile I bust my pants off and my leg is gushing with blood. From multiple places!!  WTF?!

Boo. Hiss.

I picked the phone back up but I am crying at this point. Okay, maybe sobbing in pain. My brother has no idea what just happened and why he hears me crying and screaming in the background. I could have been bludgeoned for all he knows.  I can hardly speak.
"The cat....just clawed... my leg off."
"What happened?"
"Lucy just.... hightailed.....  across my leg.... and I think we need to amputate.

"I'll let you go. Go clean that out. You don't want to get cat scratch fever."
Nooooo. Not Ted Nugent references.  Sigh.

 Needless to say, I called my brother back and apologized for being such an uber-sissy over the phone. He suggested de-clawing the cat. I suggested to euthanize her. It is cheaper.