OSCAR’S STORY- Long lived the cat- From Worzel

Tell us a story, I asked Mrs Gibberflat, Godfrey has never heard the one of Oscar- long lived the cat.

My stepmother, Mrs Gibberflat never threw very much out in her life, including our cat. They were making us a special treat, Croquembouche- Godfrey was cheerfully filling the shells. “I can hear that yowling even now Mrs Gibberflat said, every one yelling, oh how that awful cat smells!

The tom was decrepit, with missing green eye, a bent tail my dad had slammed in the door. Neither tabby or torty but a  fuzzy soot, with a voice like one may scrape off a boot. He shat on the stove top he shoved our Chihuahua down the stairs. He acted like he was being throttled, he left things about unspeakable, chewed up and mottled.

We had all stepped in gifts from darling Oscar wet and cold…he was old. “I decided it was time Oscar find eternal sleep, so of course the silly cat left home for a week. We all thought Oscar was long gone, it was early Autumn, brought a dead rat to the door, crack of dawn. He bolted inside when he saw his cat cage, his cat food and litter had been given away.

“I had to go to the store for more, and appointment with the Vet on Tuesday. Oscar climbed deep inside the settee’, I was not happy with the deep bite he gave me”.

“I dropped Oscar off on the sad day, at supper came the Vet’s truck up our long driveway. “Twas a bad power failure in town, said the Vet, sorry she could not put Oscar down. I trudged to the neighbor’s for litter and cat food, trudged home in the snow falling, in a foul mood.

Godfrey wore apron and hairnet when he baked at our place, my old dad watching the game on T.V., newspaper on lap, scowling at Godfrey, grumpy face. “Mrs Gibberflat reckoned, I will have another go, but got stuck in town two days, highway closed by deep snow. Two days spent with Oscar in the Super 8 Motel, I sat without a word as that rotten cat purred, curled up on the heater as  night fell.

The dusty T.V. had two nebulous channels, bowling, praying and golf. In an ancient magazine I read an article , “Why I Love My Pet”, at the end of our stay we heard from the Vet, heading off on holiday someplace warm.

Oscar came home to live out his days, in peace on the farm.  I found him expired, by the hole in the wall where he had for many years sat. The old man took six months before inquiring, “had we seen the cat?”.   The Croquembouche was a glory to behold- we ate it in twenty minutes flat, but Godfrey had excused him self to my turquoise chair , I knew he sought the higher wisdom in old Oscar..and his story, long lived the cat..


4 thoughts on “OSCAR’S STORY- Long lived the cat- From Worzel

  1. I’ve had the giggles since I read this post, especially the single, stark sentence “Two days spent with Oscar in the Super 8 Motel.” I hope my friend Mercy reads this post because she lives with a cat much like Oscar. You are such a stream of inventive writing, Sheila. You continually amaze me.

    • Good Morning Janet, I thought of you when I wrote that line.. glad you got a chuckle out of Oscar. Heading home today after a week caring for a friends posh house on a hill, “The Pet Hair Hilton” I call it. But it is out of the city and got to go out and use the Starfinder thingy on my phone..and have my contest story ready. These folks also had a cat much like Oscar, Mercy is a very cool person, thanks for the intro, Sheila

  2. Sheila and Janet, I’ve read Oscar’s story over and over and laughed harder each time. If any reader wonders how can a small animal can cause such havoc….well I have stories of my own.
    I wonder if the wisdom Geoffrey sought is what I discovered; many have our own cross, oops, I mean cat, to bear.
    I researched Croquembouche and it sounds heavenly. In another life I’ll have it as my wedding cake.

  3. Thanks Mercy, I believe it is what he saw in Oscar, the sancity of all life however annoying. Janet said you were owned by a similar cat. I forgot how computers do things and just about self harmed getting my friends ancient “Joy Of Cooking” down from her secret cupboard high above the stove so I could spell Croquembouche, Putting it back required the use of broom handle, tongs, and a well aimed toss. Croquembouche, the perfect treat for story night on the farm, my choice to, glad to provide a good laugh, Sheila.

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