Another cut and paste, but it made me giggle.Follow

We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone
can top this one:

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how
legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks
I'm lying. On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied
anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply
mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I
would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could
think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.

The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's
wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition
was no problem.

Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I
heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower
pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me
in?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only
take you a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances.
No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing
metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating
dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs.

She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I
reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most
vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of kitten hanging from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome.
Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option.
I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the
air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my
ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there
are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on
the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-
that" paramedics.

Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics
were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the
while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter... and not
succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all.

A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where
colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my
head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk
about, which it was.

"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"

If they only knew!

Why is it that only the women laugh at this?

That actually reminds me of the time when I was still nursing my daughter. I was holding my cat and my cat meowed. All of a sudden, I could feel my milk coming in and bam! The cat just started nuzzling my chest and I couldn't get him off me. My husband was just dying from the laughter but finally got a hold of the cat and shut him in the laundry room.

That is hilarious.