The Kitten Indicent.
This entry is specifically for Jay.The year was 1995. My sister and her tragic luck were on kitten number 3. Kitten No. 1 became deathly ill, so we took it back to the farm where we obtained it. It died shortly thereafter. Kitten No. 2 became depressed, wedged it's head between the fridge and the wall, promptly breaking it's own neck. That's when Kitten No. 3 came home.
Kitten Three was a small kitten, as kittens go. My sister developed a habit of taking the kitten to bed with her. This was the kitten's tragic undoing. I came upstairs on a typical morning to shower and get ready for school, as I was a senior in high school. Mindy was in 8th grade. After my shower, I heard my sister freaking out. Curiously, I entered Mindy's room. She was sitting in her bed, with tears streaming down her face. I asked what was wrong.
"The kitten is dead," she sobbed.
"No," I said. "It's probably sleeping."
So being the good brother that I try to be at times, I reached down to pick up the kitten to prove to my sister that it was still alive.
Boy, was I wrong.
That furry ball was dead. Stone dead. Checked out and wasn't coming back. I knew this because when I picked up the kitten, it was flat on the underside. Rigor mortis had set in. I said the only thing I could at the time, which was a bad case of my mouth running before my brain caught up.
"Wow, this thing is dead as shit." That statement only caused a new storm of hysterics from my distraught, murdering sister. The murdering part came about as I believe she accidentally smushed the kitten in the night. Accidental Feline slaughter was the charge and she was guilty.
Placing the kitten's corpse in a plastic bag, I took the kitten outside. Once outside, I weighed my options, I could place the kitten in the garbage but after a couple of days, the odor would permeate the neighborhood, or I could bury it. I did go with option two, digging a quick hole in the back yard out by the alley.
Granted, I was chuckling to myself about the whole episode while I labored at the hole. Being a senior in high school, I couldn't wait to tell my friends what had transpired. During our morning break, I filled my friends in with what happened to the kitten. Our laughter filled the commons. I thought that was the end of the kitten until fifth hour Pre-calculus. WesGyver, scribbled me a note concerning the kitten, which caused me to
A. Stifle laughter
B. write an epic poem back.
The masterpiece went a little something like this:
There once was a girl named Mindy
Who owned a very small kitty.
She went to bed with this cat,
Rolled over and SPLAT.
Now, flat is this cat without pity.
Through my ever failing attempts to stifle laughter, I passed the note back to Wes who did the only thing he could do, which was bury his face in his sweatshirt. He waved the note to Angela who was in front of me, which caused her shoulders to shake with laughter. She passed the note to Jaime, who read the note with a quizzical expression on her face. She looked at me, as tears were coming out of my eyes while I was desperatetly trying not to get yelled at by the teacher. She mouthed the words "Call me and explain," to which I nodded weakly.
Wes took the note and literally ran out of the room to show the rest of the gang. On my way to golf practice, Tim and I nearly wrecked as we were laughing about the whole poem/kitten incident.
About a month later, while Tim was over flirting with Mindy, he told me to recite the poem. How could I refuse a request like that. I recited the limerick, much to Mindy chargrin. In fact, it caused Mindy to stomp to her room and slam the door, all the while nearly putting my parents on the floor with laugther in the process.
Everytime that poem is brought up, it still causes laughter.
posted by Rusty @ 11:10 AM
Comments: 3
