My cat is a cockblocker.
There’s no two ways about it. That fluffy little miscreant wants to keep any twig and giggleberries from getting near my lady parts. I’m not sure if he thinks by allowing a man into my den of zum zum that he will be usurped in my affection. Maybe he thinks the weirdos I attract online will be the type to steal his catfood and get off their tits on his catnip. Whatever it is, it’s a pain in the proverbial.
I once had a gentleman caller at the flat (sidebar: does that make me sound like a big old whorey whore? He came for dinner and some light fondling) who I was doing my best to impress. It was going well, we were flirting, we were doing some kissing, it was all going great guns. Until he decided he wanted to meet Hobo.
Off he went a-wandering round the flat whilst I finished cooking dinner (took the pizza out of the oven and threw some salad at it). He came back moment later with a slight horror look on his face and said I should probably go into my bedroom.
No literally, shit. All over my bedcovers.
Talk about a boner killer.
Then on Tuesday night it was time to take him to see Hot Scott the vet. He of the twinkly eyes and knicker melting voice. The first time they met Hobo was totally enamoured (as was I) and literally turned to putty in his hands (as would I) and yet now, Hobes has obviously realised he is the man with the syringe and the funny tasting stuff that goes on his food (easy tiger!).
After scratching the living shit out of my arm I managed to wrestle him into his carrier and get him in the car. I spoke lovingly to him all journey whilst he gave me the MOST pissed off face and stayed just out of reassuring stroking reach.
Got there, wrestled him out of his carrier and had a demi flirt with Hot Scott. So far so good. Fluttering eyelashes and a bit more flirting meant I was really enjoying myself. Hobo? Not so much.
As I was ramping up to using my best lines whilst soothing Hobo and coming across as a wonderful human being I heard a gasp and looked up to see Hot Scott waving his hand having clearly been bitten by my feral beast. Then, to add insult to literal injury he squatted on his haunches… and pissed all over Hot Scott’s other hand.