Tag Archives: Cat

Chapter Fifteen: The Gun

6 Jul
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

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

The dog was almost as bad as the cat. It stood there with its tongue hanging out staring at me as though I were about to do something wonderful while I stood in front of it trying to figure out how to kill it.

It was a large German soft brown eyes. An expression that quizzed me as to what I wanted it to do for me. When I yelled at it, “Just roll over and die, dammit,” it cocked its head at me.

My god I must be the most inept murderer on the whole planet.

And time is running out. I have to do this before it is too late.

I think though.

Yes. If I can’t do it in time to stop it. I will still do it. If I can’t stop it in time I’m damn well going to get revenge for it. And that bastard will never enjoy what is rightfully mine. MINE!

That settles it. I have to have a gun. Something I can shoot and not make it so damn personal.

In trying to figure out how to kill animals though I did come up with one fact. Places that deal with and dispose of animals have things I can use. Tranquilizers and guns that shoot them. They also have things for lethal injections. All things I think I can use.

The best part is that this is not a really big town. Evidently no one has ever broken into the shelter. When I went there looking for an animal they didn’t seem to have a lot of protections at all.

(c) 2013 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirteen: The Dog

22 Jun
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

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.

 

Chapter Eleven: The Cat

7 Jun
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

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

Killing bugs becomes boring. At first it was exciting. At first it was a challenge. Overcoming fear. Then the night mares. The nightmares.

Dreams that bugs flushed down drains during the day would come swarming up out of them at night, looking for the person who tried to drown them. Looking for revenge. Dreams that spiders squished between the holes in fly swatters reassembled themselves, slowly, carefully, and came looking, looking for ME!

Dreams that thousands of bugs would congeal together in a huge mass, sometimes human form, sometimes the form of some grizzly monster that could never exist, huge hulking masses of insects, with one purpose in mind – To destroy me.

Those nights that I dreamed they covered me and devoured me; those were the nights I woke up screaming.

Each day I had to overcome my fear anew. Each day I had to force myself to kill and kill again. Until I slew armies of insects. Nations of insects.

Every night they got their revenge on me.

Every day I got my revenge on them.

Until one night.

I dreamed they covered the house and came pouring through every orifice they could find. The tiniest cracks that could exist. They flooded like a massive flood of brown bodies.

But instead of waking up screaming I reached under the covers and from nowhere I produced a flame thrower. And it was already on and afire with death and destruction for all things with six or more legs. I burned down the room, the house, and every bug, insect, spider, and creepy crawly within a block.

That night I woke up laughing.

From then on I killed bugs all day and I killed bugs all night. Until I became bored with killing bugs.

Now what? Something with more meat. An animal. A dog or a cat. How do you kill a dog or a cat? Do you poison it? Strangle it? Shoot it. Drown it?

Stupid problems. You would think someone plotting murder would be more forceful, would be more straight forward and daring. More in control. What was the term? A cold blooded killer. Someone who planned to kill someone without passion, the same way they would plan to go on a vacation. As adverse to a hot blooded killer who killed during the heat of passion. Where did I fit in there? The kid who is afraid to stick its hand in the cookie jar?

I don’t want to start shooting things yet. But I need a gun. Sooner or later I will need to shoot something. Someone. Yes. I need a gun. A gun that is not registered to me. A gun that cannot be traced to me.

How do I do that?

Can’t buy it from anyone. If you buy a gun, it doesn’t matter who you buy it from, then someone somewhere knows you have that gun. Nope. Can’t buy one.

If you steal a gun it would almost have to be from someone you knew. You would have to know them at least well enough to know they owned a gun. Then there would be a connection between you and the gun.

There can be no connection.

In the mean time I guess I will go kill a cat.

 

 

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ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

War By Other Means

Politics & Philosophy

this is... The Neighborhood

the Story within the Story

stillness of heart

MUSINGS : CRITICISM : HISTORY : PASSION

The Guilty Preacher Man

abandoned illustrations

matchtall

A tall women amazon model WordPress.com sit

Three Wise Guys

Best not to think about it

Mister G Kids

A daily comic about real stuff little kids say in school. By Matt Gajdoš

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

The Judy-Jodie and Kelli Memorial Blog

A great WordPress.com site

A Financial Life Coach

Your Financial Life Coach

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

Top 10 of Anything and Everything - The Fun Top Ten Blog

Animals, Gift Ideas, Travel, Books, Recycling Ideas and Many, Many More

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Thoughts

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