Nutley and Ray are restricted on the outdoor deck. They wear a collar on a tether in order to prevent them from going over the gate and into the wide world. I anchor the rope to the outdoor table and move the anchor as they tangle up going around the furniture. Got it? I looked down and noticed blood on the deck. It was funny looking thin almost like grape juice. Nope! Blood! Colleen and I checked. No mosquitoes. Neither of us was bleeding. It was Nutley. Big! All over. There was a trail of blood around the planter. Dunno? The cut was small – right on his ear. But it kept bleeding. Pressure did not work. We went through several paper towels. I’d get the bleeding to slow down and Nutley would shake his head vigorously and start the bleeding all over again. Normal bleeding time for humans is under 8 minutes. In cats? It just kept bleeding. …. til it stopped suddenly. It bled once more with another head shake. But after that it stopped. To be sure it was a traumatic experience for us both (human and cat). Nutley howled pitifully. But it all stopped. And Nutley lives!
Don’t do this at home. This is a mandolin. Years ago, Lisa forbade me from using one. Ha! Is it sharp? Yup, very! I’ve been cut before. Never so badly… Two of my assistants in Saudi managed to cut me with a scalpel. That was harrowing. And, stupid… very, on my part. In all my years as a surgeon I was never cut before that. Now, I’m cut again. If you are squeamish, I, at least, did not show you gore. It was pretty bloody. Nothing to be done if you shave off your finger nail and part of the nail bed. Ugh!! The bleeding stopped. “All bleeding stops.” – operating room motto. How? It was an unforced error; I was momentarily distracted by Colleen. She is now on a short distinct list. I won’t forget her. Ha!
Epilogue: The nail has grown back, almost. I cringe to think of the wound. I not only forgave Colleen, I married her. The ham dinner was a success. Only one guest, Kathy, noticed I was cut.