Today my roomie got attacked by our cat George. I've written about George before; he's what you would call a very grumpy, angry old cat. Our theory is that he's been nice for too many days in a row and needed to let out some evil on us.
Anyway, when he attacked her leg/foot this morning, she was yelling out "Alice, get something! Something big - like the vacuum cleaner!". I should probably add here that it's a known fact that George's only fear in life is the vacuum cleaner and other stuff that blows air. So, panicked, I ran into her room and got the first thing I saw: an unplugged blow-dryer. Needless to say I felt pretty stupid when I came running with it in my hand like a gun, and my roomie just looked questioning at me: "What the hell, he's not even scared of that when it's not plugged in!". George continued to attack her until he got bored with it.
This little story might help to explain what happened next...
Later when we had dinner together, my roomie confessed that when she was vacuum cleaning her room earlier, she suddenly felt that it was time to get revenge. You might say the opportunity appeared to her. Yes, she was going to get revenge on George. Our cat.
She continued, with a nervous laughter, that she "unintentionally" closed the door to her room when George was in it. She then apparently chased him around with the vacuum cleaner "to get revenge". Again, he's a cat.
First I was quite shocked at my roomie's very "mature" act, but then realized that I would probably have done the same. You see, when living with George you have to abandon all your principles and morals to be on equal terms. It's pure survival technique.
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