Sunday, November 21, 2010

Faith's Defense

OK, so it's my fault there's a lizard in my Momma's kitchen?

Hey, I try to keep order around here. I keep track of all critters in the garage, large an' small, keep 'em in line, make sure they don't bother my people.

If there's a cockroach (this is Florida!) I give it a talkin' to an' chase it into a corner. "Don't come out in the daytime," I say, "an' if someone turns on the garage light, skedaddle!" They listen. Cockroaches are very smart people!

My Momma doesn't really appreciate that. I'm tellin' you, I spend hours crouched behind the garage door, watchin' for lizards an' mice an' all! If somethin' comes in I bat it around an' pester it until it learns how to behave. Tough job, but some body's gotta do it.

I am a "no kill" cat! But my Momma doesn't seem to understand that.

One day my Momma found a mouse in the house. It was in her shoe! Well, did she go nuts! She carried me into the room where the mouse in the shoe was, so I started talking to that poor scared creature. I talked telepathically, of course. Humans haven't evolved to the point where they can do that, so my Momma must have thought I was just sitting there. She got impatient an' decided to deal with it herself. That's when the trouble began.

My Momma has a Grab-It, one of those old lady things that old ladies use to reach things up high, or in corners. Well, my Momma took that thing an' grabbed onto Charlie's tail (yes, he had told me his name) an' held him way up in the air. Charlie hollered at me to make it stop, but there was nothing I could do. I was so upset by this that I had to leave the room.

Back at my post in the garage, I heard the rest of it, an' it wasn't pretty: Momma did a very bad thing. Momma dropped poor Charlie into the toilet an' flushed it over an' over!

Now, Charlie was a strong healthy fella, so I pretend in my mind that he swam through the sewer an' emerged at some point onto a beautiful field of grass an' nuts an' berries, an' is livin' a long an' peaceful life. But of course, you know where my mind sometimes goes: I'm afraid I have to face the fact that my Momma is probably a murderer.

You know, the mice police have their opinion but as for me, I have forgiven her. She's just a dumb human after all.

So, Lucy (that's her name, you know, under the fridge), I'm rootin' for her. And, although I've been told humans are too dumb to hear them, I'm still sending telepathic messages to my Momma to leave her be!

It's not easy keeping this house in order, but I take my job seriously an' do the best that I can. And I do love my Momma (an' my other Momma, an' my brother Odie, an' all the little critters in the house)

That's my story an' I'm stickin' to it!


jude said...

OMG!!! I love the point of view! What fun this blog is!
Jude *

Carol Shoemaker said...

Thank you (and Miss Demason, I suppose...)!