Thursday, August 8, 2013

CALIOPE GONE- Confessions of a Cat Fag

Since Shewho has moved up to the mountains full time, my sched. has become one of a commuter's. I work on whatever project i have going on here at my house and around 5pm get in the truck and head for WSSP, for cocktails on the back deck and a nice dinner with the "old lady". My fears of neurotically acting out, at my girlfriend being within 20 miles of my front door, seem to be unwarranted. Everything is going swimmingly....that is until the other night.
    I had barely arrived, greeted both cats- Mojo and Caliope, telling them how proud I was at the two of them becoming acclimated to the country, when Caliope peeled off, leaving Mo and I to continue the conversation. A matter of minutes went by, when Shewho called to Caliope. We heard a meow under the car. For some reason she wasn't coming out. As soon as she emerged we knew something was wrong. Blood was coming from her mouth and we immediately surmised she had been hit by a car. How? Five minutes previously she was rolling on the deck. As Shewho furiously dialed the phone, trying to find a vet on a Sunday evening, I wrapped the cat in a towel and got her in a box. Shewho was still on the phone when Caliope went stiff.

   I used to be a hard ass when it comes to cats. They showed up they disappeared. I never got too attached or close. It was all good. As Shewo crumbled in tears, clutching her dead pet, I realized those days are long gone. I was as much of a mess as she was. How? Why? IT'S SOOOOOO UNFAIR! We never heard tires screech. Now if anyone drives by the house fast I glare at them. Are they the killer? We consoled each other and went into mourning.
  The next day I built a coffin for Caliope. I hadn't measured her, so I snuck up on Nicole with the tape measurer to get an idea. She ran like a streak, sure that I was getting the specs. for another trip to the death house. On the box I wrote CALIOPE- Beloved cat of Shewho and Teehoo and drew a bad picture of a cat. Then I dug a hole up on the hill by the fence line. Shewho wrapped her in red cloth and sprinkled her with catnip for the journey. We both teared up again. The box was a tight fit. I had to put my knee on it in order to nail it shut. Caliope never felt a thing. She was already on another plain. Now it's just her son Mojo being spoiled rotten by the both of us. Cars whizz by the house, as Mojo watches from the window. He will never step outside again.  


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