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..