This is a classic horror story about two sisters, who each believe they are the one and only sister. They end up fighting over which of them will be the last to die in their family, as it turns out both of them were wrong.
Lee Pitts is a columnist for The and Paso Robles Press who can be reached at [email protected].
I’ll confess that I’m not a huge cat lover, despite the fact that cats do offer a few benefits over dogs. They clean up after themselves and mind their own business, making them superior than spouses in this regard. They’re also smarter than dogs; after all, you won’t see eight cats pulling a sled and musher through a snowstorm in the Iditarod or sniffing out explosives that may explode at any moment. Cats, on the other hand, don’t have the same sense of humor as dogs, and they don’t take instructions well. They do, in fact, provide them. They don’t have “owners”; instead, they have workers.
Cats, too, are cunning. One of the oldest images I have of me is of me caressing one of my grandmother’s cherished cats on her porch. But once the photographer finished taking the picture, that horrible cat clawed and stabbed my arms till I looked like a five-year-old heroin addict. When I blamed my wounds on the cat, it gave me that usual “holier than thou” look, as if to say, “Who, me?”
That same cat had an uncanny habit of sitting on the toilet and observing you.
Despite the fact that I had no connection with my sister’s cat Tiger, I must say that it did have one redeeming quality: it was an excellent “mouser.” It would leave a dead mouse on the mat that greeted visitors to our front entrance almost every day. This was an issue since you never knew when Tiger might hand up her “gift,” and my mother worked as a seamstress for wealthy women and their debutante daughters, who often visited for fittings. I thought it highly funny to witness prom queens and debutantes fling their beautiful dresses up in the air as they yelled, “RAT!” as they left our home. Then they bolted for their Cadillacs, cowering in terror. Tiger was usually in the vicinity with a characteristic smile on her face, despite the fact that cats aren’t capable of smiling.
We’re going to get through this together, Atascadero
Another cat I became acquainted with on the property we rented belonged to my wife’s cousin and resided on the ranch we leased. She came sobbing to me one day with her cat, China, who seemed to have been run over by a herd of cows. She’d previously brought China to the vet, who gave my wife’s cousin one glance at China’s crushed rear end and advised her that her cat “deserved to be put down.”
“Oh no,” she said, “Lee will be able to help her.” I’ve seen him rescue lambs and calves, and I’m certain he can save my cat.”
China was clearly dehydrated, so I covered her up in a blanket so she couldn’t scratch me to death and gave her IVs of lactate ringers. I performed this for a week, diligently applying salve to her severe abrasions and attempting to straighten up her nether regions’ plumbing. “This is going to harm me a lot more than it is going to hurt you,” as the phrase goes. In this situation, it was certainly accurate. China made greater progress in escaping the blanket with each treatment, and I ultimately had scratch scars from head to toe.
If China didn’t make it, I’d be a maniac, but she nearly killed me in the process. China tried to scratch my eyes out whenever no one was looking, and if anyone dared to cast an accusatory glance China’s way, she’d get that now-familiar “Who, me?” look on her face.
My wife’s cousin was so ecstatic that she had a cap made for me with the words “I rescued China” on it. This was appropriate since I think cats are communists. Did you know that the typical cat sleeps 70% of the time and plans to take over the world for the remaining 30%?
In a nutshell, cats and dogs vary in the following ways. A “seeing eye cat” would look both directions at a major junction to make sure no one was looking, then guide the unfortunate blind person directly into the path of an incoming cement mixer. The cat would glance at the investigating officer as the blind person’s corpse was being carried onto the meat cart, as if to say, “Who, me?”
As an example:
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