So much for my promising career with Cirque de Kitteh, Sunday

Kitties, there has been a little mishap in the House of Mosaics.
I have taken a fall from (lack of) grace.

Many of you know that I love to climb up onto tall things.
I like to get high.
Here I am just last week demonstrating my balance beam routine.

Nearer to thee, o' fishey!

It's important to look straight ahead to keep my balance while practicing the more difficult components.

I traverse the beam effortlessly.

So, on Friday, Mosaic Lady received her Christmas present from my Godmother: a NEW BED! The delivery men left around 5pm and I decided I wanted to come inside as soon as they left.
I went into the laundry room.
The next thing I remember is Mosaic Dawg barking her maniac head off when she heard a VERY LOUD CRASH.
And then ML came into the laundry room to get her new sheets out of the dryer.
And then she saw me laying on the floor, on a rag, on my side.
She told me to come into the bedroom and annoy the heck out of her as she tried to make the new bed, but I was not feeling much like moving.
I hurt my hind leg very badly.

I will not bore you with the blow-by-blow that followed Friday night and all day Saturday (which I spent at the fur doctor's. I am still there this morning! I did not even get to sleep on the new bed!)
The last she heard, I was "resting fairly comfortably" (ALLEGEDLY) in my tiny cage at the fur prison, high on pain meds and anti-inflammatories.

Here is what I have learned so far during my ordeal:
1) Mosaic Lady has OCD. (This is not new but bears repeating.)
2) The washer and dryer do not make a good safety net when I am trying to get high.
3) The best place in the house to hide at 4am is in the middle of my long tunnel. ML searched the entire house 93 times, and even checked the tunnel, but she only checked the ends.
4) ML can sit by the phone, willing it to ring, for seven and one quarter hours before she loses (the rest of) her mind. Within minutes of stepping out the door to walk Mosaic Dawg, the phone will finally ring. This has happened two days in a row now. My fur doctor is psychic and likes to play with ML's feeble head.
5) A traumatic injury to your thigh muscle is a much better thing to have than a fracture or a dislocated hip, albeit just as painful.

6) My dismount needs work.

(Please remember when commenting: I am the Alpha Kitty in this house. Sadie's secret fantasies had nothing to do with this. She does not have that kind of power over me.
Does she?)

7) I have just learned that I will be sleeping in the tiny prison cage again tonight. Even though I am doing very well and putting weight on the bruised muscle now, I do not think my fur doctor wants to deal with ML on his Sabbath. Who can blame him, Kitties?