Whew! I'm back from a refreshing week of housesitting, armed with new lufferly insights! Now, now--don't all groan in excitement at once, you hear?
You hear about occupational hazards all the time. Researchers of deadly diseases might contract the diseases themselves. Zoo workers might get eaten by their charges. Writers might fall into despair and kill themselves because they're sure that "It's just not for us" is code for "u suck we all hate u go get a real job not writing this crap".
Housesitters also have occupational hazards. Besides the usual--burglars, housefires, alien abductions--you have certain dangers unique to particular houses. The hazard I faced this last week can be summed up in two words: Demon. Cat.
The people I was sitting for are old friends of my mom's. I've known them my whole life. They've always had criminal numbers of cats. Right now, it's four. Not that I mind--I've got two cats of my own, I'm not allergic, and three of the said four kitties definitely do not pose a significant threat to my health.
However, the fourth cat is Demon Cat. Also known as "Oni Neko," which is Japanese for "somebody put that cat in a freaking asylum because it's going to kill someone really soon."
The hair on the back of my neck prickled so much I thought I was getting allergic to cats after all. Practically every time I turned around, there *he* was. Demon Cat. Glaring at me with those evil yellow eyes of his. I was almost afraid to go to sleep at night, sure that I wouldn't wake up again. Or, if I did, it wouldn't be for long, because DC would be... well... eating me.
I did, indeed, survive. The cost was great. I may never get that patch of hair to grow back. But it was worth it. One word: FastInternet. Hah! I cheated. But it's one word. So there.
Hm... wit. Some people have it. Some don't. Haa...