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I Deserved That... I Think
Jul. 5th, 2007 02:58 pmI was cleaning out Daniel's cage this morning and, wouldn't you know it, I got cocky.
Instead of wearing the thick, leather gardening glove that I usually use to clean, I went bare-handed to scrub out the bottom of the cage. Daniel skittered around, just out of range, so I figured I was safe. Ha.
He ain't called the "Goddamn Mouse-Owl" for nothing.
He lunged, bit, and I skeeked like a little girl. I also jerked my hand up with Daniel still firmly attached. He got smacked on the inside of the tank lid, which made him release and leave me to my bleeding finger.
I suppose I got the better end of the deal -- a tear on my index finger, about the size of a small papercut, or that of a white mouse's front teeth. He got a bruised nose and the experience of smacking into a window at a billion miles an hour. (And this was signifigantly less spectacular than the first time he bit me and he went flying six feet into the air...)
After making sure he was okay, and after putting tons of neosporin on my cut (germaphobe, doncha know), I felt bad enough to bribe him with food. He got a handfull of dry oatmeal, which he promptly ate.
Instead of wearing the thick, leather gardening glove that I usually use to clean, I went bare-handed to scrub out the bottom of the cage. Daniel skittered around, just out of range, so I figured I was safe. Ha.
He ain't called the "Goddamn Mouse-Owl" for nothing.
He lunged, bit, and I skeeked like a little girl. I also jerked my hand up with Daniel still firmly attached. He got smacked on the inside of the tank lid, which made him release and leave me to my bleeding finger.
I suppose I got the better end of the deal -- a tear on my index finger, about the size of a small papercut, or that of a white mouse's front teeth. He got a bruised nose and the experience of smacking into a window at a billion miles an hour. (And this was signifigantly less spectacular than the first time he bit me and he went flying six feet into the air...)
After making sure he was okay, and after putting tons of neosporin on my cut (germaphobe, doncha know), I felt bad enough to bribe him with food. He got a handfull of dry oatmeal, which he promptly ate.
