Attacked...

So last week, I was attacked on the streets of Paris. I had just walked all the way to the Tour Eiffel, and was walking by the pedestrian bridge near-by when I saw her. Yes, her. Or at least I’ve decided it was a her. Now, I’ve had plenty of situations where someone pegged me as a tourist and tried one of the old, generic tricks to rip me off. There’s the ever so clever ladies who walk around touristy areas asking if someone speaks English, or the men who come up to me asking for directions, while showing me a piece of paper (I’m assuming in an effort to get me to pay more attention to the paper than to my bag). And then there is my favorite trick - the one where I laugh at the person trying to swindle me – the ring drop. Yes, I’ve had this happen to me a dozen times, and at this point, I literally just laugh in the person’s face. In fact, last time I ad-libbed a “Sérieusement?! C’est très drôle!” – though I think the perpetrator was not nearly as amused as I was at my humor. It has come to the point where I’ve joked that I want to take these people aside and tell them that everyone knows this ruse and they need to think of something different!

So maybe I should be careful what I wish for and maybe it is my desire for a different type of attack that God decided to answer. No, my attack did not come in the form of being ripped off by any of these expected perpetrators or in any of the expected forms you are likely thinking of. Meet my perpetrator.



She looks cute enough. When I saw her, I pulled out my camera and began snapping away. Like a good little cat, she sat down on the steps, looked directly into my camera and proceeded to do cute things and pose. When I asked her to act like a tiger and make love to the camera, she did. I felt like a cat-whisperer as she obeyed my direction and I hoped that I got some great shots.

I then decided that I would try to reward her efforts by petting her, if she would let me. I was surprised to feel a collar around her neck and further surprised by her rubbing up against me and my hand, as if asking me to pet her! Truly, I was a cat whisperer! I had finally mastered the connection that I’ve rarely found with other cats.

Ahh, yes, how deluded am I?! At this point, the cat, mistaking me for a toy, decided to sit up on her hind paws, wrap her front paws around my hand and dig in! Yes, she bit me. And then, as I pulled my hand away, she scratched me. But then she decided to rub against my hand some more. Odd, were we playing? We must be. Either that, or I’m a glutton for punishment, as I decided to pet her some more. The thanks I got? Another “love” bite. After three or four attempts to reclaim my cat-whisperer status (apparently, I’m slow), I finally gave up, snapping one last picture of said cat and leaving to lick my wounds.