A Catful of Sorrows

And the lord said unto me: I shall smite thee for thou hast not kept My Will. For thou hast coveted thy neighbour's boyfriend and hath borne false witness against thy manager.
Then I said unto the lord: Have mercy on me, oh lord. I know that I have sinned against you. Let me appease you oh great saviour of us all. What penance should I do to atone for my sins?
Then the lord said unto me: Now you're talking! For thy penance thou shalt live with cats! Bwahahahaha!
And so it came to pass that I was accursed with two mewling kittens, brought home by my roommate. The trouble with cats is that they bite and scratch. To put a finer point on that: they bite and scratch me. I have a history of being bitten and/or scratched by various cats down the years that weren't even my pets. If that wasn't painful enough, the ensuing precautionary injection certainly was. Maybe they hate that I'm a doglover. I dunno. That led to my subsequent hatred for all cats and my letting any neighbouring dog loose on any neighbouring cat I see. I know, that's evil. I've sobered down a lot now and have even gone so far as to develop a fondness for my boyfriend's half-blind black tomcat who blessedly doesn't bite or scratch me at all.
In any case, there the little critters are now; crawling all over the house, miaowing for all they're worth, insisting on exploring every nook and cranny of the house and I can't even plonk myself down anywhere for fear I might flatten one of them. Thankfully they seem to have developed toilet manners early enough so that's one worry out of the way.
One must make up for the sins of one's past in one way or another, I guess.