This morning, I woke up with an unexplained cut on my forehead. If I were a drinker, I could easily assume that I had injured myself while I was drunk and just not remembered it. However, I'm not a drinker. So how do I explain this cut? Personally, I think my cat Boo was trying to kill me in my sleep again. "Again?" you say. That's right, again.
Several years ago, I was living in an apartment with just Boo and myself. At that time, the headboard on my bed was straight across the top, and it was one of Boo's favorite places to sleep. One night, I was awakened at 3:00AM by a sharp, stabbing pain in my neck. I reached for my neck and felt several cuts and scratches and some fresh blood. Apparently, Boo had fallen off the headboard and landed on my neck with his claws out. But I don't think it was an accident. I think he pretended to fall and was trying to slice through my jugular.
Since then, Boo has been biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike again. And that opportunity was last night. However, since my dog Dylan was laying on the bed next to me as my protector, Boo's evil plan was thwarted this time. Once again proving that dogs are better than cats.