I am under attack!
Last night I found some Bengay to put on my leg. Yes, I am ashamed to write this out loud: I am that old!
So, smelling like a pharmaceutical factory, I relaxed in front of the TV. It was late evening, and soon I dozed off, still holding on to the TV remote. Perhaps I was hoping to change channels on my dreams, if they failed to entertain me!
I woke up to the constant tiny touches on my leg. My hand dropped down to drowsily investigate the problem.
A small, sloppy tongue met my hand. Chickie thoroughly licked it, while I began to understand the reason for such intimate attention: I used that appendage to rub on the ointment, and Chickie is an un-repentful junky, who loves all things with strong chemical odors.
I tried to shoo the cat off, but he was determined to taste every micron of my skin and dress, which bore the enticing taste. Plus, it's very hard to get rid of that animal, while laughing at his antics!
After giving me a few perfunctory swipes with his paw, Chickie finally understood that he lost his fix. He then scratched at the carpet with his claws in the throws of a Bengay high, fell to the floor and began to roll around and lick himself with rapturous abandon. Half an hour later, though, he sat miserable, with his back hunched and all the fur sticking out.
Today he follows me through the house, trying to catch a chance for another assault and a fix. Alas, my friend, I'm onto you!