Might have an old bike helmet around here somewhere ...

What were you doing at about 5:00am this morning? I hope you were sleeping peacefully as we all should be at that time of the day. But apparently one of my cats had other ideas.

Waking up because a cat has had a freak-out when it saw something outside and decided to do a flash dance on your head before launching off in a different direction is not the way I would prefer to end my slumber.

My reaction was immediate - I cringed and pulled my arm up above my head in case said kitty was not done. For a moment I considered dropping right back to sleep but decided to reach up and touch my head while mumbling something derogatory about the parentage of the doggone cat. My hand came away wet. Very wet. Disorienting!

By the time I got to the bathroom I saw blood splash onto the bathroom floor, it was down my arm and coming down the side of my face. OMG the cat has killed me! Okay, I didn't really have that thought, but I should have given the amount of blood dripping from my head.

I clapped my hand over my scalp and began the business of stopping the bleeding by applying pressure with wet paper towels. For OVER A HALF HOUR. I wasn't too freaked out because everybody knows that scalp wounds bleed a lot. But I WAS considering the logistics of driving myself to the hospital if I managed to pull some pants on and some sort of slip-on footwear, driving with one hand while holding bloody paper towels to my head with the other hand. I figured I would look like a crazy woman.

So once the bleeding finally stopped I did what anyone else with my temperament would do, I tried to go back to sleep. Didn't work but I did try.

Couldn't really wash my hair because I could not see what my scalp looked like and I was afraid I would make it bleed again, so I took a lukewarm shower and rinsed the blood out but that was it. When I got to work I asked Ysabel, who I still share a brain with even though we don't work in the same area anymore, to come look at my head so I knew what the damage was. I was picturing slashes, maybe a nice flap of skin barely adhered to my scalp - no. Not anything nearly so dire. Two punctures. Two holes in my head and a big red spot or abrasion. No stitches needed, no having to report my cat to the authorities lest she dance on someone else's head and be considered a menace. Two punctures.

Only a small amount of blood ended up on the shirt I was sleeping in, nothing on my pillow or carpet, although I did have to clean up the floor and the sink and vanity in the bathroom. Yes, this is the kind of thing I sleep in. I only show you to make you feel better about your own sleep attire.

I know you want to know which cat it was and I can tell you in all honesty - I'm not sure. I suspect it was Abby (the evil one) because she is the night prowler who always knows when something is outside to get freaked out about. And being the crazy cat lady I am - I can't blame her. She didn't do it on purpose.

But I might start sleeping in some kind of helmet.
*