Okay, so my sewing room is full of felt, and juicy bits of ribbon, and tempting tiny buttons which maybe goes in some way to explain why every time the door opens, our two kittens rush past me and try to hide so that I won't know they are there. There follows ten minutes of me trying to excavate them from under the chest of drawers alternating with 'ignoring' them so that they'll appear.
Well, in an effort to keep them out, I have developed a habit of 'whooshing' through doors (this is a technical term which means squeezing quickly through the open doorway whilst simultaneously shutting the door behind you).
Yesterday this went a bit wrong - I kept Lola, our female kitten, out with one foot, and scooted through shutting the door. I must have shut the door on Charlie's tail because I was suddenly leapt upon by a furry ball of fury. His hair sticking out all over, a growl in his throat, he attacked my leg with claws and teeth!!!! until I let go of the door, then he shot by with a thunderous growl.
So you could say, I have been wounded in defence of my felt.
Charlie, by the way, was fine and has recovered his regal poise. I... am still limping. The felt is undamaged.
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