Whose Cat Did I Bury Anyway?

Its name was Kiki. I hated that cat. It was an all black bully-cat who would growl at you if you got anywhere near her while eating, refused to cuddle with anyone but my daughter, and seemed to enjoy running through doorways just as you were slamming the door. The poor thing would wail in pain as the door caught its body every time; and there were many. Now I’m no expert on feline behavior, but it seemed to me the cat just didn’t have much going for it and the ever increasing rush for the half-opened door was this creature’s ploy to gain sympathy from me. I hated that cat. However, as any mom can tell you, no matter how you feel about your child’s creatures; no matter what they are, no matter how irritating, dirty, or grotesque, that is of no consequence. How your children feel about the critter means everything. So you bite your lip, turn around, roll your eyes, and mumble under your breath when the kids aren’t looking. When they are looking, you smile and coo, “How cute!” That’s just what I did with Kiki. Kiki lived…correction…kiki was tolerated for a few months until one tragic day I drove past a lifeless black cat at the side of the road, an obvious victim of a careless driver about town. I knew my children’s hearts would be broken knowing their kitty was no more so I asked my husband to drive down and collect the body so we could let the kids say goodbye. As predicted, my children cried their tears over Kiki’s grave beneath the Oleanders. They each took turns saying what they loved about the cat and I even managed to choke out something like, “You made my kids so happy. Rest in peace.” Then I turned and silently thanked God that growling menace would not stand in my kitchen warning me to stay far away as it greedily gulped its food. We had a rather unexpected visitor later that night around dinnertime. Kiki strolled up and plopped herself on the front porch waiting to be served dinner. My husband and I looked at each other in horror realizing we had made a grave mistake; we buried someone else’s cat. My kids cooed joyfully and laughed at their misguided parents for the blunder. I’ll admit, we deserved it. I don’t know whose cat we mourned and burried that day, but my Oleanders certainly are beautiful!

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