It was totally my fault. I was being frugal and chose not to turn on the light as I picked my way to the back door to let the dogs in.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when the small, unidentifiable blob moved under foot.
But I was.
And in my panic to avoid hurting the unidentified cat, I turned, twisted, hopped, twisted again – and for the first time in my life – lost my balance and went down like a ton of bricks.
My knee hurts. My shin hurts. The heel of my hand hurts.
And as far as I can tell – the only cat who was in the vicinity was Ed – and he seems to be no worse for the wear. Although his reaction to me afterwards was overly suspicious – as I approached him to see if he was injured in any way, he bolted away in fear.
And I felt like a schmuck.
Apparently during my dysfunctional ballet performance, I must have uttered some rather severe sounding threats that Ed took to heart.
I ran my hands over him to check for any obvious injuries. None were present. I scooped him up in my arms and gave him a hug and muttered some words of apology. In return, he forgave me with a purr.
I’m so glad that I didn’t hurt him.
Lights. Curtain. No encore.