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No one must know my terrible secret...

House of Noh!


Monday, October 25, 2004

I lost them all. It happened last night, at around 1:00 in the morning, in my neighborhood. I mean, that is, if I had any to begin with. Cool points, tough-guy points, what have you - I lost them. It was all Mr. Kitty’s fault. Actually, I don’t really want to get in a discussion about who’s fault it was. I guess we should share the blame, equally. Because I SUPPOSE I should have bought Mr. Kitty a new tray of cat grass at the grocery store when I bought all the groceries that I wanted - I SUPPOSE the old tray WAS getting kind of tough and stringy. And I SUPPOSE it was perhaps UNREASONABLE to expect Mr. Kitty to help out (once-in-a-while is all!) with the household chores like sponge-mopping the kitchen floor (which HE USES, like, all the time!). And I SUPPOSE that I should have made sure that the screen door didn’t swing open behind my kitchen door that I had left open about a foot or so. So anyway, here’s what happened: I was cooking some soup when all of a sudden I realized that Mr. Kitty hadn’t tried to get any of his filthy cat hair in the pot for at least half an hour. This is unusual. I looked around a little when I saw that the screen door had swung open. I checked out on the exterior landing, but I didn’t see him there. Inside my apartment I checked his little cat bed, and some cardboard boxes that he likes to hide in, and my closets, and everywhere else it seems that a cat could fit in my apartment. Then, alarmed, I walked all the way down the stairs to the landing. I still couldn’t find him. Then I ran around down in the alley below my apartment. He was totally gone. Mr. Kitty likes to hide under cars and stuff so I grabbed a flashlight and crawled around my neighborhood shining it under cars for like an hour. He was still nowhere to be found. Mr. Kitty’s not the most streetwise cat in the world; he’s too friendly and it doesn’t help that I trim his nails so he doesn’t even really have anything to defend himself with. I started to get concerned, and, desperate, I started running up to people walking through the streets and alleys and asking if they had seen a “furry little, snuggly, gray cat with a pink nose and long whiskers.” That’s when I think I lost most of my points. Nobody had seen him. I kept looking, crawling through the undergrowth behind the buildings in my neighborhood where I thought Mr. Kitty might be holed up, all lost and confused, and waiting to meow out to me to rescue him. Still nothing. After an exhaustive search of the area, it hit me. Mr. Kitty never runs far when he gets out. And he’s totally an affectionate cat and everybody loves him. My conclusion was inescapable. Mr. Kitty had been catnapped. That’s when I started accosting my neighbors: (me) “Knock Knock” (elderly neighbor) “Yes, can I help you?” (me) “Did you really think that you could get away with it, you pathetic son-of-a-bitch!” (elderly neighbor - confused) “What?” (me) “Give me back my cat! You catnapper!” The only people I didn’t use profanity with were my Spanish speaking neighbors, but only because the only swear I know in Spanish is “Fuck your mother” and I didn’t feel it was appropriate for this situation. The best I could do was, “Hola. Mi gato llamo Senior Gatito. Senior gatito tiene labios negro y ojos grande. Donde me gato!” But don’t worry, because this story has a happy ending. When I went to look for Mr. Kitty I left my door open and at like two in the morning I came back to my apartment to get another jacket and he was in the kitchen meowing at me like he had been wondering where I was. I don’t if he had been hiding in my apartment somewhere (he’s really good at hiding) or if he had come back while I was busy repeatedly gut-punching the celery-root-smelling, Cheney-got-his-flu-shot, would-go-to-Canada-to-buy-his-life-saving-medications-but-he-can’t-afford-the-bus-ticket senior citizen who lives in 1W, and demanding information on the whereabouts of my cat. But so anyway, Mr. Kitty’s safe at home now and we’re one big happy family again.

Brian 3:22 PM

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