I think I’ve offended The Godfather Cat.
It must have been him that I angered inadvertently when I shooed that random homeless hobo cat out from under my car that dark night when his freaky glowing eyes and quick feline movements caught me by surprise when I was on my way out. Stupid cat! And why is he napping under my car? Ugh! I glanced accusingly at the houses on either side of mine and thinking I’ll bet this cat belongs to one of you, flounced myself indignantly into the car and promptly sped away to my destination. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened and I thought nothing of it until today when I found a dead rabbit on my porch. Nay….ANOTHER dead rabbit! The first victim met his demise this past summer. Leaving early in the morning for work I saw the decapitated bunny head on the sidewalk directly in front of the porch step and screamed bloody murder. What the what?! I looked around for the perp or at least someone else to witness the horror. No one. Who does that? Or rather what?
Not wanting to be late (that was my excuse) I left the head and drove off to work and did what any red blooded American in 2012 would do in this situation – I posted my traumatic find on Facebook, took a poll on what vicious beast could have killed the fluffy cuteness and offered everything short of prostitution and top secret nuclear arms sales to the person who would remove the offense. This didn’t prove successful; however, with input from my
fair-weather Facebook friends I decided that surely it must be the Godfather cat himself who murdered Peter cottontail in cold blood with the candlestick in the billiard room and left his head for me to find as a warning. It took several phone calls and the bribery offering of a seafood dinner to convince a reluctant friend to dispose of the head. All was well and right with the world…until today.
Today I was going to be on time for church. Yes! I would pull up precisely 5 minutes before service started, find a good seat without having to climb over anyone, say a few Good Morning’s and be pleased as punch at my accomplishment. I turned the ignition, thought I saw movement out the corner of my eye and turned to see some furry animal on the porch on the other side of the door. Was that there when I walked out just 10 seconds ago? Crap! Is that another rabbit?! Getting out of the car I crept back up to the porch albeit stomping along the way and making noise hoping the rabbit had only been frozen in fear and would hop off on his jolly way when it heard me. No such luck. Definitely dead. Standing and looking with grossed out face I looked around again for the perp or a witness only to see some guy across the street in a black sweats walking by.
Deciding he looked too much like a serial killer, I refrained from calling out to him to lend some neighborly help. I don’t have time for this. Jumping back into the car I sent this text message to the same friend: OMG THERE IS A DEAD RABBIT ON MY PORCH!!! PLEASEEEEEEE GET HIM!!!!!!!” His response: Again?. “Are you kidding me?” he asked when he called. I’ll spare you the details of my whining, and all the gagging noises I made as evidence that I could not touch the departed hare and the promise that I would be his best friend “…like FOREVER…” if he did me a solid and disposed of the carcass…again.
Hours later the body is gone the crime scene tape has been removed and all is right with the world again. I glance toward the window and wonder what might be taking place on the other side of that curtain, if Godfather Cat is still ticked off at me and decide that if I find a horse’s head on the porch come tomorrow….I’m packing up and leaving town!
Godfather Cat can have the house!
Yakkety Smakkety 