But I am walking!! woo hoo. I have a horrid limp (I know it'll get better) and it makes me think of Frankenstein zombie or something. I felt stupid going to the mailbox. At least with the giant boot I looked like I had an excuse. Now I look like a normal person impersonating a cripple.
So anyway it's great to be free, but my ankle is really hurty. So Garry hopped up on the counter (apparently he's been doing it a lot these last 2 1/2 months I have not been very mobile) and I yelled at him. He looks at me like "so whatcha gonna do about it???" I'ma get up and kick your hiney! That's what. I yell again with more mean growel. He struts his stuff cuz really- what am I going to do?
Normally by now I'd jump up fast as lightning, sprint over, and barely miss swatting (cuz he may be old, but he's still got those feline reflexes no matter how fast I am). But we all know there is no "normally" left for a while. I hop up from my chair- too fast because I tremble in pain in my ankle.
I'm sure he'd laugh if cats had laughing boxes. You know what he does? Any ordinary cat would be high tailing it out of there once the human stands up. He stares at me smiling (I know he was). He actually made me hobble over toward him to feebly think of swatting him off. By my third hobble I've made it 2 feet from my chair and he decides he's tortured me enough. He slowly walks to the end of the counter and nonchalantly jumps off and avoids me for the rest of the afternoon.
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