Chapter Thirteen: The Dog

BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading TheMapThinker.com

Cats are strange and spooky creatures. I never liked cats. Now. I hate them. They are perverse. Maybe some of those stories about them are true. The neighborhood was filled with them. Until the day I decided to kill one. Then none could be found. As though they had read my intent and sought to thwart me. As though they had some cat psychic hotline telling each other, “A killer is after us. Hide. Pass it on.”

I finally got one though. A different neighborhood where the feline hotline had not forecast a warning. A tabby. The deft use of a bit of string, a piece of meat tied to the end. It was like cat fishing.

But when I had it in the room with me at my mercy I couldn’t figure out what to do with it. I tried to bash it in the head with a sledge-hammer. It just scooted to the side and purred at me.

There I was standing there staring at the hole I had put in the floor while this stupid cat struts around the room with its tail held at max height in the air purring as though it had somehow pulled off a wonderful trick I should applaud it for.

I tried to tie it up. You can’t tie a cat up. They are too limber. I tried wrapping it in blankets, the way I am told vets advise people to do who are trying to give their cats medicine.

Every time it would manage to get loose.

So I let it go.

The damn thing wouldn’t leave. Finally I left the door open and chased it out by screaming at it.

Getting it outside was only a partial victory. The stupid creature thought it had found a home. It stayed close to the house and every time I opened a door or a window it would try to come inside.

Purring. Always purring. Why do cats have to purr?

I need a gun. Shoot the damn thing.

How do you get a gun?

To be orderly I made a list. Who has guns? Police have guns. People who belong to gun clubs. Drug dealers. Gun stores. People who go out to gun ranges.

How do you part the gun owner from the gun?

Hit them over the head with something when they aren’t looking. Burglarize their house. Sedate them with a drug or with chloroform. Stun them with a taser.

None of those ideas sounded like really great ideas.

I decided to forget the cat. The one that followed me around purring at my heels like a lunatic.

I’ll go find a dog instead.

Tags: Behavior, Cat, Humor, Image Galleries, Pets, Purr, Recreation, Vocalization