Velociworld

CATS, FIENDS?

Alphecca has a good post on pets that I found at Sketches of Strain. It reminded me of a cat story from way back, for some reason.

New Year's Eve, 1988: The Bride and I used to party on amateur night back then, but this party was at least nearby at Fat Jack's (yes, I used to hang with people named Fat Jack). When we got home I built a fire, then sprawled on the floor in front of the fire and passed into the Dead Zone. I must have cracked the window by the fireplace to leaven the temperature from the blaze, because I woke up about three and there, right next to my head, was a freakish sight.

We had a mean-assed feral cat named Shelley that shot out litters on a regular basis. She was too mean to capture and get fixed. We just kept hoping she'd run away.

She'd recently had her second litter, and while I slept she'd apparently gone a huntin' for the brood. When I awoke I saw, in the flickering shadows from the fire, a dead baby rabbit deposited about a foot from my head. The three kittens were in a frenzy, sproinging into the air in a macabre dance of death around the carcass. They were pumped. Shelley sat a few feet away, pleased. I tossed the thing out the window before they could begin the Feast of Felix, but I learned something that night.

Cats will do weird shit behind your back they would never let you see. And while I like my cats, I have no doubt in my mind if I died alone they would feed off my flesh until it was too putrid to eat. No sense of moral obligation at all.