Death's Door presents the Cat Stories

ball knocker

2005-02-10T13:39:00.000-08:00

I was sittin on the couch last night flippin channels when I hit upon a special about cats. With me being a lover of the furry little bastards, I decided to settle in and watch. Do you know that at four months old cats are fully developed and all that they lack is age and experience? Who knew? It was a very cool show to watch and I learned a lot about cats I didn’t know before. They’re still psychotic little bitches but now I know more about em. I just think it’s amazing how much of ourselves we put into our relationships with cat’s and dogs. I’ve caught myself many a time walkin past a dog or cat on the street and sayin hi. It just seems the thing to do. Dare I say, even normal? And don’t even get me started on the times I’ve held conversations with my cat. Some time ago I read about a eighty-year-old lady getting busted for growing weed in her livin room. When the judge asked her why, she said her cat liked the smell. I totally dug that, it made all kinds of sense to me.

I know I did crazy shit for my cat when he was around. One summer when I had the bigass house on the Westside it got hotter then a muthafucker one day. I was draggin ass and so was the cat. It pained me to see him so hot and all so I devised a plan to cool him down. In the bathroom I had this real cool shower with these glass doors that enclosed it from the rest of the bathroom. So what I did was start the shower runnin with the cold water on, then grabbed up the cat, shut the shower doors and threw him in over the top. The little four fingered bitch, when he got wet he hit the shower doors so hard they cracked. When I let him out I had fifteen pounds of wet, pissed off bastard kitty racing through the house like his cock & balls were on fire. But between you the wall, and me, I think he dug it. Then there was the day a friend of mine gave me some catnip, or I think it was. Around this time I had a roommate with a dog, the cat never really got used to the dog and was always lookin for a reason to nark him out. No love lost, if you know what I mean.

The chick that gave me the catnip told me it was home grown and that it’ll chill my cat out a bit. I put some inside this special cat ball and tossed it to my cat. He freaked me out. He started purring and humming and shit, and we just sat there in amazement watchin him. Out of a back room comes the dog to see what’s happening. He starts sniffing the cat and the cat’s just rollin around on the floor purrin. Next thing we see is the dog lickin the cats face and balls, and the cats poppin a stiffie. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen, I thought for a moment the cat was gonna start blowin the damn dog on the spot. After a short while the cat got up and started down the stairs. He ended up fallin /stumbling down two flights. That was the end of that bullshit, but he never went after the dog again. Go figure. I remember when I had to get the fucker fixed. I took him down to the Vet and left him overnight.

Man, did that change shit. When I picked him up he was still out of it, so I fixed him a nice place in the easy chair where he could rest and I could watch him. After a time he woke up, yawned, and started cleaning himself. I swear he washed himself then got this really fucked up look on his face. He looked up at the clock and did the whole thing over again, then rechecked the clock. He gave me a long hard look then turned his back and started checking himself out. When he finally turned back around he was pissed. He just set there staring at me, and wherever I went in the house there he was staring at me. This went on all day into the night. It started freakin me the fuck out. I used to let him sleep with me, but that night I started sleepin with the bedroom doors shut.

grandma's cat

2005-02-10T13:17:00.000-08:00

So this friend asks me to him a huge favor. He owned this huge house that he shared with his elderly Grandma Bessie. Grandma Bessie was this sweet old woman who knew nothing about the world past 1969. Somewhere along the line she’d gotten stuck in this continuous loop with no way out, if you know what I mean. She knew her grandson, she knew her cat, and she knew that I was somehow connected to her son. She was always asking me if I knew Martin Luther King. She figured all black folk knew each other. Anyway my friend had to leave town for a few days and he ask me to help out with his Grandma Bessie. Nothing big, just drop in before and after work and heat up her breakfast and dinner. (Grandma Bessie thought the microwave was a TV with fucked up sound)

I figured how bad could it get. She never left her floor and kept herself fairly clean and neat, so I said sure, why not. Everything was going smooth as silk till the last day. I’d gotten off work and went over to the house and let myself in and went about my business of heating up dinner for the old girl. I went upstairs and knocked on her door and I could hear her cryin. I rushed in and there she was sittin on the side of her bed bawling her ass off. I asked what’s wrong and she told me her cat had gone out the window. Now this chick was really, really into this cat and I knew she would come apart with out it. I told Grandma Bessie to calm down and I’d get her cat back for her. So I went outside and started lookin and lo and behold there sits the cat. I grab it and start walkin back to the house when this furry little pile of shit comes unglued!

He starts swelling up and hissing and shit as he’s shredding my shirt to confetti. I wanna let go but I know how bad Grandma Bessie wants her cat back. But I swear this muthafucker’s getting bigger and bigger and it’s like walkin and holding a bunch of butcher knives by the blades. You know that low-pitched noise that cats make when they’re really pissed? This furry bastard was beyond that. We fought our way into the house and up the stairs and into Grandma Bessie’s room. I’m sweating like a bitch and bleeding from where he’d shredded the shirt, but I force a grin as I holler to Grandma Bessie that I got her cat.

She looks up from her plate at me and then looks at the cat. She dips into the pudding and says, “that’s not my cat”. I’m almost cryin as I say, “are you sure”? “I’d think I’d know my own cat” she said. Then she got up and walked into the bathroom and shut the door. That’s when I did what I had to do. I tossed that furry muthafucker out the third story window and went home. Fuck an old lady and her cat. Some days the good deed just ain’t worth it.

roomates cat

2005-02-10T13:16:00.000-08:00

The other day I’m climbing out’a the shower and sitting on the sink was Minnie the cat. So I’m standing there staring at Minnie who’s staring at me, and I’m thinking, “when a cat stares, I wonder what they’re thinking”? As I’m standing there all wet and drippy, Minnie looks down at my package, and then back up at me, and winks. I was floored! You think I’m shittin, but the goddamned cat gave me the once-over and laid a wink on me. Now I’m trying to explain this to Michelle some time later and she’s not having it. She refuses to believe that Minnie the cat came on to me.

But it wasn’t like that at all. It was more of an appreciative glance then anything else. I mean, c’mon hell, I’m a good lookin guy, in a ruggedly handsome way. If the cat’s diggin the scene, who can blame her, I’m not above laying a little catnip on her and shoving some tuna down her throat. But that’s cough, cough, where it stops, I’m no freak, no sir Bob. No kitty sex for me, leave those shenanigans to the country folk with their cows and pigs and the ilk. That’s all this great nation needs to bring it down, illicit cat sex. Think of the children dammit.

shaving the pussy

2005-02-10T13:15:00.000-08:00

It looks like the “Cat” story is gonna follow me the rest of my life. So I’ll tell it from my end and you’ll all see the real truth. When I owned the big house on the Trafficway I shared space with a large cat that went by the name of Cat. He was an evil little four-fingered bastard but we’d been together since he was two just weeks old. One summer the temperature had been over the hundred mark for over a week and we were dying from the heat. Cat had this real long shaggy hair and he was suffering something fierce. So I was lookin for ways to cool him off. One day I turned on the cold water in the shower and closed the shower doors and tossed his ass in over the top.

The muthafucker actually cracked the shower door trying to get out, talk about your pissed feline. So that didn’t work, all it got me was a wet pissed off bundle of teeth. But one morning I was in the bathroom shaving my head and he was on the john watchin me when I got this great idea. I took the clippers and ran into the bedroom where I had this old examining table. And please don’t ask me why I own an examining table it was on sale. I grabbed Cat and laid him on it and next to him I laid the clippers. After a few minutes I turned on the clippers so that he could hear what they sounded like.

I rolled him on his side and put the clippers to his ass. He started to freak but I think he knew what I was trying to do. So and only so, to put him at ease I took off all my clothes. I figured that if I was nekked he’d know that I wasn’t trying to hurt em. You know, I hurt him he hurt me. And he actually let me shave all his hair off. And that’s the whole fuckin story, nothing perverse of wrong. Just mutual trust between me and my cat.

gun's don't kill people, cat's using guns do

2005-02-10T13:13:00.000-08:00

All during my bouncing years I always kept some sort of weapon in one form of another on me and in my early government years I never traveled without a gun in my bag. But it came to a head one night when I was home in bed reading one night. My stupid cat was makin a fuss as cat’s will and I pulled a revolver from under the pillow and pointed it at the dumb furry fucker. I then removed all the bullets from it and spent the nest few minutes dry firing at the cat’s head. This got boring so I replaced all the bullets with blanks and thought how much fun it would be to see him crap himself when I pulled the trigger and it made noise.

But lucky for the cat I was getting sleepy and put it off till next time. I happen to tell my father about what I almost did and that’s when he informed me that a blank from a gun of that size would have taken the cat’s head off. I decided then that I was having too much fun with guns and that’s when I started getting rid of most of my arsenal. Most of my knifes went to a female friend of mine who collected knifes as a hobby. Plus I figured that’s something a women can’t have too many of. My guns I traded out for various things over the past few years including a new carb for my truck. I still have things around the house but they’re of the “I can’t slip up and kill something by accident variety” and that’s the way I like it.

missing Cat

2005-02-10T13:12:00.000-08:00

I’m sad; I think I miss my cat. Whenever I hear the Counting Crows song “Long December” I can’t help thinking of all the good times we had together. We had the strangest relationship I think. We were together over twelve years you know. When I first got him he was so small that he used to sleep in my hand at night. As he was growing up one of our favorite games was called slide the kitty. That’s when I’d grab him and roll em into a ball and slide his ass clear to the other end of the apartment like a hockey puck. It was so funny, he’d ram into the far wall and come running back to me and we’d do it all over again.

Then there was the day I saved his life, I woke up one summer morning and felt this trashing around at the end of the bed. He had bitten into the air-conditioner power cord just hard enough to get a shock. I actually had to kick him loose. He never was right after that. After six months or so I took him to the vet to get denutted. Poor muthafucker, the car trip terrified his ass something bad. And when I got him home till the day he left me he never let me out of his sight. Even after I started locking him out of my bedroom at night I could see his paws sticking out from under the bedroom door. But I had to start locking him out; ever since I got him fixed he wouldn’t stop staring at me. And since I sleep butt nekked I didn’t want him seeking revenge on my ball-sac whilst I slept at night. He’d do it too you know.

But we loved sitting on the couch watching TV. I’d yak at him and he’d just lie there content as all hell. You knew I had it bad when before I’d go out I’d spend at least fifteen minutes picking out something on the TV for him to watch while I was gone. We even made the weird section of the newspaper one year. This reporter found out about this trick we had. It was so weird that I had to show to the guy before he would believe it. Back then I was out of town a lot for the Man and what I’d do was to call my phone from any government phone I was at. I’d get my answering machine and I’d leave a message for my cat. As soon as I hung up my government phone it’ll start ringing and I’d pick it up. On the other end was my cat meowing his ass off. The best that we could figure what happened was this.

Whenever I’d call my machine my cat would freak as soon as he heard my voice and go jumping all over it. On that particular machined for some reason if you hit the speaker button it would somehow call back the government switchboard. Thus I would get a call from my cat sayin “hey muthafucker, come home”! Hey. It got us in the fuckin paper. I want another cat but I’m not sure if I want to go thru that heartache all over again.

in the end is the begining

2005-02-10T11:56:00.000-08:00

It’s been almost three months now. Every night before bed I go look out the back door then the front. I lay alone listening for strange noises hoping for the best. His stuff is still where he left em, I figure if I move his things it’ll jinx him ever coming back. All this crap you hear about love and loyalty is just that, crap, how can someone you’ve shared over twelve years with just up and leave. I talked to people in the area because they all knew him. One chick said that he crashed over her place for a week or so; another girl said she woke up from a bad drunk and he was lying in bed next to her. He hung out with her till all the food was gone then split. I spend a lot of time trying to figure what I did wrong. Hell, I even saved his life years ago. We were screwing around in bed and the cord from the air conditioner got wrapped around his leg.

I guess the cord was frayed and the more he struggled the more he got shocked. So I smacked him with a broom to break him loose. He seemed fine after that; kind’a developed a twitch but other then that he seemed good to go. For a bunch of years we lived together in this big ole house on the west side of town. For a while he even developed this strange relationship with this female. It was hard to figure, he just laid around the house and she kept him covered. But it was ok, I didn’t mind as long as he came around and hung out with me from time to time. It got kind of ugly one night when I heard this noise coming from the floor near the foot of the bed. I had a suspicion so I grabbed my camera and hit the lights. Damn, there they were. He was on top biting her on the neck banging the crap out of her and smacking that ass.

He never got over the fact that I showed the pictures to all my friends. We moved a year later. Don’t know what ever became of her, probably banging everything in sight. Yeah, sorry to say but that’s how that bitch rolled. But all in all we had a good time together and like any other couple we had the bad days with the good. I really miss him when Buffy’s on TV. He used to enjoy lying next to me with his head in my lap. I really do miss my cat.