Harry On The Pounce


I was playing with Harry this morning, and all of sudden, he saw my arm as a piece of steak and started attacking it, crashing his small body into my limb and attacking it like a competitive eater.

I yelped, “UHHH!  AHHH!  Harry, NOOO!” He attacked with such zest, I had to smack him one to get him off of me.

A few minutes later, marks started to appear on my arm.  Off to the bathroom to apply Neosporin and peroxide.

He does this occasionally. Most of the time he’s fine, but there’s that one time in 100 where he thinks he’s a tiger. The odd thing is he’ll cry a bit while he does it. Maybe he realizes the remorse he has attacking is friend…me?

Harry always has had a bit of feral cat in him, but I thought in the last week or so we had bonded better than we ever had before. Then, this happens.  Oh well, back to the drawing board.


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