Hair Raising

Have you ever had any hair raising experience? I bet in the mundane life of human beings, it is rare. The chance of a literal hair raising experience is even closer to nought if you have a pony tail like my Daddy’s. Just imagine the gravity your scalp muscles have to fight against, oh-la-la, you are talking Einstein.

I do though, occasionally, have hair raising experiences. You can expect a cat’s life is never ordinary.

In summary, I raised my hair for both conscious and unconscious reasons.

Hair-raising Incident No 1
Category: Unconscious

In a tranquil evening, when I was meditating upon the grass flies in the garden, Peno’s boyfriend “Mr. Patchy” (yes, the black and white guy) suddenly stormed towards me in a Kamikaze fashion out of blue (yes and in darkness). In great terror, I leaped and rushed home in lightening speed. As I forced through the cat flap, Daddy spotted me “hair-raised”, leaving few drops of wee, in the name of terror. In such circumstances, you can’t blame me for not being able to control my hair nor my bladder.

Hair-raising Incident No 2
Category: Conscious

Rusty is a brown tabby – almost identical to Peno from the distance – and she lives in one of the houses in front of mine. While Peno’s fur is so Bangle-y of vivid black and lovely brown, Rusty’s is kind of indistinctive and of a variation of reddish brown. She is a petite cat like Peno. Though I am a timid adorable cat at home, I have the nature of a true street fighter. Here’s a picture of me, approaching Rusty in the threatening, heroic manner. (GRUNT)



(Misty: I am nasty...)


(Rusty: I am nasty too...)


(Misty: Come on...who is the nastiest mama...)

Misty