There must be an epidemic.  TuTu has been hanging around my feet lately
and I have stepped on her tail a couple of times.  I have told her to wise
up  and don't get underfoot  and that we both could get hurt.  MLB

That's got to be the worst feeling... It's only happened once to Ketzl and
I'm grateful for that. During our "makeup" after it happened, I tried very
hard to get him to realize that he's far superior to me in the agility field,
and that I'm counting on him to keep me out of his way when we're hanging out
together in our very small apartment kitchen.

I think it sank in because many times when he's asked for food and has made
me follow him into the kitchen, once he sees me getting it ready he goes back
out and waits just outside the door. Once the dish is on the floor, he comes
back in with a "You are excused. You may retreat now" look.

I bow and comply.

I was a cat abuser in a similar way after my eye ops.  I stepped on KFC all
the time.  Black ct on dark rug.she has forgiven me, but it's more likely
she doesn't trust me now.  She flies out of the way of being under my feet
now.  Boyfie never experienced my eye probs so he continues to weave under
foot with no worries.

Tweed

My story only involves one cat:  Smokey (RB).  I was helping DW bring
the groceries from the car and had a double arm-ful of plastic grocery
sacks, blocking my vision directly ahead.  How was I to know Smokey had
strategically stretched himself all the way across the hall to the kitchen?

I took one step too many toward the kitchen and heard a yowl from the
depths of h*ll, dropped the groceries (of course there were eggs in one
of them) and looked down to see Smokey *limping* down the hall to the
kitchen.  I went after him to apologize and finally found him huddled
under the kitchen table with his injured paw raised and licking it.

I retrieved him from under the table and tried to examine his paw to see
if an immediate trip to the vet was warranted.  Just as I got him up in
my arms, DW walks in and we both make a fuss over his injury.  Finally
had to put him down to pick up the grocery sacks I had dropped (thank
goodness broken eggs don't soak through plastic bags).

For most of the rest of the afternoon he limped around on three legs
until our then-new-arrival Mistletoe irritated him to the point he
chased after her (on all four legs, thank you).  Down the hall, up the
hall, down the steps, around the pool table, back up the steps, down the
hall to the kitchen again.

After a few minutes he came walking back into the living room where I
had sat down.  No sign of a limp ... until he saw me.  Then the foot was
raised and washed again.  I told him that if he could run like he had
been, he must not have been hurting too badly.  He sulked off to a
favorite hiding place.

He tried the limp trick once more after supper but gave it up when DW
and I just laughed at him.  And he forgave us quickly because when
bedtime came, he was happily snuggled up on DW's pillow when we got into
the bedroom.

And we never saw another indication of a sore paw from him.

Sam, closely supervised by Mistletoe

Mark I think you started a trend  My elderly mother stepped on Phantom foot
here awhile ago.  He screamed bloody murder  I had to track him down and
give him some lovin'.  He still is not a happy camper with mom  she comes
close  he gives her a good growl and hiss

I'm sure they'll live! There's nothing that makes you feel quite as
guilty as that anguished yowl, is there... but being stepped on
doesn't seem to make them realise they have to get out of your way! I
booted poor Tessica just this morning - she ran right in front of me
when I was turning the corner, and connected with my foot. She looked
very surprised, but she didn't even yowl so it's not like she was
hurt...

I stepped on Caliban yesterday. He was under the bed, but right at the
edge, and somehow I stepped with my foot partially under the bed. He was
very offended and wouldn't come out from under the bed for a long time,
and to make matters worse, Miranda chose this time to attack him for a
play-wrestle. I finally managed to coax him to me, and he head-butted my
hand and face, so he forgave me.

For all the times I've accidentally stepped on paws and tails, I've
always been grateful that cats have a forgiving nature. That is, when
they're approached in the spirit of a truly contrite slave.  The worst
time of course was when I accidentally broke poor Pan's hind leg. I
felt awful about that for months!  Franesca fortunately has escaped
with an occasional sore paw because she really objects as soon as she
feels any pressure from my foot.

Melissa

I know just how you feel, I once slammed a door on Sammy!  And the just a
week later didn't see her sticking her paw through the crack in the closet
door and shut the door on her arm!!!!  Like you I sobbed when it happened
and begged for forgiveness (and don't you feel like a monster when the run
away from you???!!!).  To this day Sammy is deathly afraid of doors - she
creeps up on them, watches them carefully, then darts past as quickly as she
can - so the guilt stays alive in me every time I see this!  :<

Hugs,

CatNipped

When I first got Rusty some 12 years ago, he was sitting under th
rocking chair without my knowledge. So I heard a scream when I sat
down on the rocker and rocked. Now Rusty is a very quiet cat with
hardly a meow from him, at least in those days. That really scared me
and thought I hurt him badly. I chased after him to check for any
injury. He was fine but that didn't stop him from sitting under
the rocking chair. I learend to check under the rocker before I sit
down. But these days he hardly sits there anymore.

Winnie

Isn't it amazing how they forgive us so quickly?  And we feel like we
committed a major crime and should be punished for it, while they
forgive us in a few minutes or so.  And then we feel even worse!

Ginger-lyn
stepping more on cats these days with the fractured hip and a crutch . .

I know how you feel, Mark.  I've never stepped on Persia (knocking on faux
wood desk).  I did trip over her once walking to the bathroom in the dark,
but I'm the one who wound up hurt.  She just looked at me as if to say, "Why
are you lying on the floor?"

I did step on my dog Sampson's paw when he was a very small puppy.  This was
in the early 1980's when wooden-bottom high-heel clogs were still the rage.
(I have no idea why I was still wearing those shoes while standing at the
stove cooking dinner.  I must have started cooking the moment I got home
from work because as I recall I was also wearing a skirt and blouse... not
my normal cooking attire!)  Sammy crept up behind me.  I stepped back to get
something from the refrigerator.  YELP!  Whimper, whimper, whimper.
Awwwwww, I didn't mean to do that, I'm sorry!  I felt just terrible.
Fortunately I didn't really hurt him; it could have been a bad thing given
those dang shoes.

Jill