Tag: Cat God

The Cat God turns into the Cat Devil

This is what happens when a grieving husband runs out of Xanax:

I screamed at the cat tonight. For the third night in a row, she knocked down the pictures of my wife I keep on the mantel in the living room (now known as the dead room—yet I continue to inhabit it).

I went crazy. I would never hurt the cat — her name is Bella, who I got for my wife Susan when her illness became a lethal presence in our home — or any animal for that matter. But, nonetheless, tonight I yelled and screamed at her like a madman. 

Since Susan’s death last Christmas, Bella is all I have, and I’m all she has. She thinks I am (and I say this as humbly as I can) the Cat God.

But when I yelled at her tonight I told her I was the Cat Devil and that I had killed the Cat God and taken over the house and I howled like a crazy Cat Devil, and Bella — who had assumed a half-hidden supine position on top of the bookcase — looked at me with detached curiosity and I told her, in my Boris Karloff voice, “You think I’m mad, don’t you?”

She just kept looking at me with the feline equivalent of ‘arched eyebrows’ as I continued my mad speech: “Well, let me tell you, I’m glad I’m mad! I’m glad I’ve gone mad, because I prefer insanity over the reality of living without Susan — the Cat Mama to you.”

Whereupon Bella jumped down from the bookcase and trotted over to my armchair and looked at me with a look that said: “I understand. I miss her too.”

Conversation with my cat


I tape record this with no regrets

My cat has grown weary of my threats

In the weeks since the death of my wife

To take a shotgun and end my life.

Just do it, he says, you’ve got eight more.

Are you nuts! I have one, no encore.

Are you telling me, says this feline,

That the Cat God gave us creatures nine

And your God grants y’all a measly one.

Bet your ass, I say, feeling undone.

Well, well, well, the cat says with a smirk

That must drive you biped dudes berserk,

Humanity’s fate is woebegone

Just one lousy life, the cat goes on

And yet a turtle, say, has no fears

He can crawl and crawl a hundred years,

And you can’t even kill a cockroach!

I am aware I begin to broach.

But then the cat turns to creation:

You believe in reincarnation?

I don’t know, why do you ask me that?

Believe, dude, and come back as a cat.

It’s not up to me you mad crackpot!

Screw it, says the cat, give it a shot,

I’ll personally contact the Cat God

And put in a good word, you ol’ sod.

Go ahead, the cat adds, grab the gun—

Hey, fill my food dish before you’re done.

So I fill the cat’s dish and go backstage

Plug in a shell and grab the 12-gauge—

[Tape abruptly ends]