By Brent Basham
CAT-ASTROPHE
People love their pets. And why shouldn’t they? Dogs and cats provide a great deal of enjoyment to families from all walks of life. For one thing, animals are always loyal. Well, dogs are at least. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, the faithful hound is always plenty excited to see you. It makes a person feel good.
Cats, on the other hand, can be somewhat finicky and temperamental. They like to make sure you understand they can come and go as they please. I’ve always encouraged ours to go.
Growing up there were always animals in my family. But we mostly stuck with the more traditional choices. Except that one time dad let Kevin keep the bullfrog he caught as a pet. Mom hated it. Fortunately for her, bullfrogs have rather short life spans, especially when grandma comes over to make some of her award-winning frog leg soup.
Otherwise, though, we stayed pretty much within the norm. Reflecting back over my youth, I can see a couple dogs and a few cats sprinkled throughout the memories. A tradition I fully intended to carry on with my own children. That is, until we owned Devil-Cat.
For the record, Devil-Cat is not just a clever name I made up to imply this horrible creature had evil tendencies. It is actually a very accurate description of the four-legged beast that was spawned straight from the rectum of Satan (I hear that’s where he spawns things from being the opposite of everything good and all). And yes, to satisfy your curiosity, the cat did smell pretty awful too.
It all started one day when my wife’s friend Amy called to tell us her pregnant cat finally had kittens. My wife was ecstatic. Cody’s other kitty, Roxy Cleopatra, had recently run away and he was still feeling a little sad. This was the perfect fix, Shannon thought, and made the short drive over a few days later. Amy promised her the pick of the litter as my wife and son couldn’t wait for the newest addition to the family.
To tell the truth, I’m not real big into cats. I don’t hate them or anything. I just think they are a total waste of space. Cats come and go as they please and seem to consider it a privilege to allow us to pet them. They remind me of some of those stuck-up chicks back in high school. But those girls really turned out to be more like female dogs. As luck would have it though, Shannon loves the furry little things. At least she did before that feline demon invaded our home.
After picking what appeared to be the cutest and sweetest kitten in the bunch, my wife and child brought home their new little baby. We named it Tiger, not realizing just how appropriate it was at the time.
Everything was fine at first. Cody teased it on the floor with the toys Shannon picked up from the pet store. It really seemed normal. But pretty soon we realized this was not a purebred housecat.
It was the little things at first. Scratching on the back of the couch for example. But as it grew things began to escalate. Attacking my son without cause. Making strange loud noises in the middle of the night. Running at full speed into a wall (repeatedly). Finally it started to become very clear. Somewhere in this cat’s lineage was obviously a ferocious saber-toothed tiger.
Need I remind you, cavemen did not domesticate this deadly member of the cat family. They hunted it down and killed it. Then they ate it and used the fur for blankets and coats. And it’s a good thing they did too. Those animals were vicious. Given the chance they would have undoubtedly done the same to humans (with the possible exception of using our skin for warmth).
So it was truly kill or be killed. No ancestor of mine was ever caught saying, “Mommy, mommy, look at the cute little saber-toothed tiger. Aren’t his razor-sharp teeth cute? Can we please take him back to our cave with us? Please, please, please.” It just didn’t happen. And our little ball of fur was a direct descendent of these three-hundred-pound killing machines. How nice.
Finally, I’d had enough. It was time for this thing to go. Cody’s daycare was beginning to wonder if he was being abused due to the scratches covering his entire body. I guess they think I fight like a girl.
Anyway, I had to make a decision about my son’s safety and it was a no-brainer. On my way out the front door to dump the cat in the nearby pond (I have always wondered if cats really can’t swim), my wife stopped me.
“Baby, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting rid of our problem, dear. Why, do you want to do it?” I responded.
“Let’s just take it down to the humane shelter tomorrow instead, okay?”
Looking over at Cody’s face, I realized that for some reason he still didn’t want to see the cat harmed, so I gave in.
“Fine,” I said. “But after this we need a break from animals for a bit. Maybe Cody would like a nice safe goldfish for his room instead.”
“Yeah,” Cody exclaimed. So we said goodbye to Tiger the very next day.
Strangely enough, the so-called “humane” society didn’t want to take him at first.
“Why do you want to get rid of this cat?” the lady behind the desk asked my wife.
“Because it’s ripping my three-year-old little boy to shreds,” Shannon said emphatically.
“Well, kittens sometimes behave aggressively when they are young,” trying for some reason to convince us to keep it.
“This cat is a year-and-a-half old. It is not a kitten. It is the devil. You can take it from me and do the “humane” thing, or I can take it back home to my husband who I assure you will not. And I can’t promise you he won’t try to recoup the money he spent on food and cat litter.”
“Okay, lady, we’ll take it.”
“Great. Have a wonderful day.”
And with that, Devil-Cat was out of our life forever.
The lesson here is an important one. Whenever you are getting a new animal, make sure to have a thorough background check conducted first. It may cost a few extra bucks, but I assure you the investment is well worth it.
Look at what happened to us. If we’d have taken the time to investigate using a service like animalfamilytree.org, much pain (both physical and emotional) could have been avoided. Either that or just stick to goldfish.
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