The Cat Beater Part I

Last night should have been a normal night just like any other until Randy, my husband, decided to show off his fist of fury . . . MY CAT.

I was asleep and having yet another crazy-ass dream:
This one about an army taking over Stockton, my Sister, being a hero with a gun, my Brother, trying to make room for a TV in a station wagon instead of my wounded Grandmother and another usually prudent family member randomly streaking in the street. My dreams have no depth or meaning but they are funny in their consistency of their randomness.

And as the norm, right before I was about to die in my dream I woke myself up with a jump. M lazy fat-cat Gemini was sleeping by me when I awoke in a panic so he freaked out and started circling in place, which freaked me out and made me yell, which wakes Randy up. Randy who is all groggy, half-asleep and only knowing that something made me yell, reaches out and punches Gemini who is still reeling in a craze because I woke him up from a dead sleep in the first place.

Finally digesting what had just happened I turned to Randy and yelled at him for punching Gemini but he was already (or still) asleep and just mumbled some nonsense and passed back out. Poor Gemini had no idea what the hell just happened and looked very offended about the whole situation. Gemini didn't return to sleep in the bed that night. My poor baby!

Well the next day I had to tell Randy what went on because he didn't even remember and, yes, he did make amends with Gemini. But now I hope you and your pet all take caution when near Randy because there will no doubt be a Part II to this story because:

Once a cat beater, always a cat beater.