I’m Either A Hero, or Attempted Murderer (A Matter of Perception)

This is a tale (tail?) of danger, love, intrigue, and triumph. It is a tale of one cats survival and one woman’s sacrifice….

OK, I’ll skip the theatrics and just tell the story. So, at 6am this morning I woke up to hear my cat coughing up a hairball, or at least that’s what I thought he was doing. I suppose I drifted back off for a moment, but when I woke up again and heard him still making choking noises, I thought I had better go check on him. I made it into the computer room just in time to see his eyes roll up in his head and him keel over and lie twitching on the ground. I rushed over and spotted about a half inch of sparkling silver hanging out of his mouth.

Let me quickly explain. My son’s birthday was a few days ago. This is the gift bag that he received-

IMG_20130406_121253

Starting to make sense now? Good because I need you to be able to accurately picture this in your mind for full dramatic effect. So, I reached to pull what I thought would be a fairly short piece of tinsel out of his mouth and was surprised when I met quite a bit of resistance. Apparently my kitty had not only attempted to eat the tinsel, he had found the longest possible piece and put some effort into it (he’s not a quitter that one). I was afraid to pull too hard and cause the string to break, and thus kill my cat, so I began to pull slowly but firmly, all the while watching his convulsions get weaker and contemplating how to perform kitty cat CPR. Finally, an hour and 5 feet of tinsel later……(OK, slight exaggeration, but that’s what it felt like) the last inch of tinsel came free. I held my breath for a moment to see if he would recover on his own or if I would have to start itty-bitty chest compressions (and praying to God that none of my children would walk in to witness this). But no worries, within seconds of removing the string he took one really big shuddering breath, jumped up, looked at me like I was murder incarnate and took off. Now at this point I thought that he was just spooked, after all almost dying has that affect on living creatures, so I grabbed a rag to wipe the foam and spittle off of his face and went to calm him down and clean him up. He was not having any of it. Apparently I am to blame for the whole affair. I’m not sure if he believes that I left that tasty (??) looking shiny treat there for him as a trap, or if it is just guilt by association, all I know is that my cat thinks I tried to kill him.

So, yes I’m a hero. Now if someone would please tell my cat that it would be great.

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