That's short for Self-Inflicted Wound.
That's how Elf, my cat, almost invariably manages get herself into trouble -- even though I sometimes 'facilitate' the process like this:
After my last post, I got home and opted to enjoy some nachos. About halfway through them, Elf turned up and took note of the fact that I was eating something.
Her first considered action was to check it out by sniffing the general direction of the nachos from several different locations. Satisfied that there really, truly was something edible in the area, she proceeded to begin stropping my ankles in an attempt to get me to share. When that didn't work quickly enough, she went on to standing up so she could reach out and pat my arm to get my attention -- clearly, I simply hadn't noticed her.
Having gotten me to recognize her presence, she went on to try and convince me that
- She really did like nacho cheese (despite never having had them before),
- Nacho cheese is good for cats (all those vitamins and nutrients, you know),
- She was all but starved to death, anyway (never mind the kibbles in the kitchen)
Her efforts included silent meows (too starved to make any noise), licking her lips (honest, she likes nachos - a lot), sitting up (yes, like a dog!), and headbutting my leg.
I ignored her for as long as I could (they were, after all, MY nachos; nor did I want to be stuck in my apartment with a gassy cat), then tried telling her that I really didn't think that she'd like them even if I did give her some -- but she was so determined and insistent that I finally gave in. As I figured would happen, she thought the cheese was simply delicious.
Right up to the point that she got ahold of one of the jalapenos -- whereupon she promptly fluffed up and started trying to spit her tongue out while tearing around the apartment.
Cats. Jalapenos. Who knew?
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