Me and my Vicious Pussy.

Well, my cat (who has a book of a history and is not allowed out ...) managed to get out while I was carrying the washing to peg out. I realised this when I turned around and saw him on top of ours/the neighbour's fence. After shouting, (me) and ignoring (him) he jumped down into the neighbour's garden and proceeded to stalk two strange cats in the bushes.

Now, before I go any further, my cat was born in Dubai and attacked by a snake (he has scars). He was rescued by an ex-pat living over there and eventually, they paid thousands to bring him here (with another cat). After being here a year, he decided he didn't like other cats and went on a rampage. He was then put in a local shelter because they didn't want to have him put to sleep. Oh, and he's big - and judging by his tail markings, he's part wild. But he loves to love - on his terms. He also loves to nip bare ankles and is very loud. But he's my baby.

Also, the neighbour was away on holiday when this happened and their garden is only accessible from a side gate opened from the inside.

Treats didn't work. Tuna didn't work so I sent hubs over the fence. That didn't work - the cat did a lot of hissing and spitting and Hubs is a chicken. I threw him a towel. This made things worse and after lots of hissing and spitting (the cat, at hubs and the two in the bush) and lots of swearing (hubs - at the cat. Me - at the hubs) he said "you come and get him then."

And he unlocked the gate. So, I traipsed through my house, out the front, round the side and in the gate. And I walked up behind the cat saying "come on Pepper you silly *insert whatever word you like* and I pick up the cat.

My first mistake was wearing a t-shirt.
My second mistake was approaching the cat from behind while he was stalking his pray.
My third mistake was thinking he would come quietly ...

As soon as I grabbed him, he went berserk and bit me. Well, ok, I thought he was just playing - as you do - and then he tried to get away but I held on ... and sank to the ground.

And then I grabbed the towel to wrap the hissing spitting cat who, for some reason, had let go of me. And then I saw the blood on the grass, and down my linen trousers, and dripping off my elbow. And then I burst into tears thinking hubs was going to have the cat put to sleep.

I managed to get him (the cat) into his cat box and left him to cool off in the kitchen while hubs drove me to A&E with four holes in my arm.

A week of antibiotics, tetanus jab (because the doctor has lost part of my records) and three days later, and I'm supposed to be going back to work. I had it dressed at the hospital for work on Thursday, and was told to take painkillers too. (the pain was unbelievable.)

So - this happened on the tuesday and on the friday I had an appointment at outpatients where I was told I needed to leave it open to heal as infection had started to set in due to having it covered. (that is apparently the worst thing for animal bites as leaving it open reduces bacterial infection and aids healing - I should know this with working in a kitchen. The trouble is, you can't have an open wound in a kitchen, but I can't cover it because it's not a burn/scald/cut, it's a bite.

So I had to have a week off work.

After leaking greenish gunk for two days, it's now healing lovely, (I went back to work on Monday) but I still have four lumps in my arm which I'm guessing is scar tissue as each of the cat's fangs went at least an inch into the muscle in my arm.

And the cat's still alive. We were only at A&E for 2 hours but by the time we got home, the cat had escaped from his cat box and was sat waiting for me with his *hi Mommy, can I have a cuddle* meow.