Okay, listen. No matter what The Woman says, I was not running in terror from that little hairy piece of fluff. When they let him out of the cage today, I just wasn't in the mood to deal with someone who clearly needs a hefty does of Ritalin. Yes, I ran down the hall, and then up the hall, and through the kitchen and the bedroom. And yes, he was right on my tail, but that doesn't mean he was chasing me. And it certainly doesn't mean I was running from him. I just don't want to deal with him.

Simple as that.

Sheesh.



Edited 2.5 hours later to add: I let the little chit have it. He got too close one too many times, so I hissed at him and then popped him on the head 3 or 4 times. He'll learn.

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