As some of you may know from reading some of my previous posts, my kitty rides with me on the road.
My cat was born in Clinton TN. On April 4th. 2004 a few weeks later while visiting he was the first of the litter to climb out of the box and climb my pant leg. “That’s my cat.” When he turned eight weeks old we took him on the road with us. When we got to Vermont we took him to the Vet to get him everything he needed, or more accurately get rid of everything he didn’t need such as worms and flees. I would hold him and lick his face and purr to him. Did you ever give a cat a bath? The hair sticks to your tongue and it takes hours to cough it out. I love my cat, he’s the son I never had, and no, I never got a little p***y on the side.
So for the cat lovers among us I have a cat tale. When I came home in the seventies to seek employment in the private sector, I was staying with my friend Mike and his wife Gloria. Gloria had a kitten named Katie, a loveable calico long hair. Let me digress here a little. I love a joke, practical or otherwise, and delivering them to Gloria became one of my favorite pass times. Like filling all the kitchen cupboards with balloons, or tying a knot in the little twist tie that comes on a loaf of bread, or waiting behind the door when she got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom so I could grab her arm and see how high she’d jump. Back to kitty Katie, Gloria and Katie had a personally conflict, Gloria would go out every day and come home to find Katie had left her a surprise, Katie would use the bathtub instead of her litter box, or knock over the box of laundry detergent, tear out the side and use that instead of her litter, or just leave a deposit on Gloria’s pillow. Obviously a case of KADD (Kitty Attention Deficit Disorder,*) by this time I was living with Gloria’s mom, and we would hear the tales of the possessed cat almost daily.
Gloria insisted that Katie was possessed, “Katie crapped in the sink, Katie crapped in the bathtub, Katie crapped in the laundry detergent, Katie is possessed….” Gloria decided that Katie needed a new home, a dairy farm where there were other cats.
One day, while driving home from the sub base, in the pouring rain, I saw Katie sitting on the side of the road in front of a dairy farm about eight miles from home. I stopped the car, backed up and looked at her, “That looks like Katie.” I said to myself. I opened the car door, called Katie and she jumped in the car. I then drove across town to Gloria’s house, no one home; I pulled out my keys, let myself in, dried Katie with a towel, locked the house and went home. I see someone out there waving their hand wanting to ask, “Otter, didn’t it occur to you that there was a reason Katie was eight miles from home sitting on the side of the road in front of a dairy farm in the pouring rain?” No, it didn’t.
I was sitting at the dinner table when Gloria called, on the verge of meltdown. Her mom answered the phone and Gloria started, “I told you that frigging cat was possessed! I told you!” she was going on. “I dropped her off on Copper Hill Road in front of the dairy farm, and when I got home she was here, in the locked house, dry! Its pouring rain outside and that possessed cat got home and got in the house and she’s dry!” She was crying on the phone to her mother. She never forgave me.
Gloria relocated Katie, I’m sure multiple state lines were crossed, to a location known only to her. Katie probably lived to a ripe old age, curled up at the foot of someone’s bed, smiling as she thinks about what she did to Gloria.
*Made you look!