The Write Perspective

I love animals. Against my better judgment, my sister says, but I seem to be incurable. However, until a few months ago, I disliked cats. Dogs were my animal of choice but I started to notice a pattern – dogs under my care seemed to die of supernatural causes. I resolved to let them live in peace and focus on my gecko who was thriving and, more importantly, required little to no care. 

One evening Anson’s cat climbed into my lap. After a few minutes of desperate denial, I faced the grave reality: I now liked cats. 

I kept the information confidential for a while, trying to adjust to my new identity as a cat-lover. When I did tell people they visibly started, gasped, and tried to convince me otherwise. “You just don’t seem like a cat person,” they would tell me. I got the impression that until I live alone in a trailer, am covered in cat hair, and order children off my property, they wouldn’t believe I was telling the truth.

One day a few weeks later I was chatting with a dear woman namedJan, who mentioned she wanted to get rid of some kittens. Being the innocent, trusting human I am, I believed her. It was only later that I realized in her vocabulary the words kitten and demon are interchangeable. 

That evening I drove over to her house to collect my new best friend. Jan came out of the house with cat food. “I can usually catch them if they’re hungry.” She announced. The first twinge of nervousness fluttered through my soul.

“You’ll be fine,” I fibbed to myself. Jan sprinkled the food onto the ground and I heard rustling from under the porch and out burst a mob of cats and kittens. They began devouring the food. We watched them eat for a bit then Jan hissed at me, “Remain calm. Don’t move. When their backs are turned I can grab one around the neck.” I didn’t think an eight ounce kitten could pose much of a threat and chuckled inwardly at her melodramatic announcement . She slowly leaned down and snatched one kitten by the neck. The kitten exploded, hissing and writhing and clawing at Jan while I looked on in horror. The kitten skillfully ripped three gashes in Jan’s arm, made a few offensive gestures, then leaped to the ground and slowly sauntered away, grinning maliciously. 

I had the 9 and 1 dialed into my phone when Jan’s calm voice interrupted me. “You can see they’re a little bit skittish. But he’s so pretty, don’t you want him?” she pointed a bloody arm in the direction of the smirking kitten. 

“NO!” I burst out. “That is, uh, I don’t have to take the best one.” I scanned the group searching for the most feeble. “That black one is cute.” 

“Then pick it up now! Quick while his back is turned.” I felt like I was on a highly dangerous guided hunt, but instead of the hunt ending with the animal being killed and the danger eliminated, this would end with me having to nurture the wild beast.

I inched towards the black kitten, Jan hissing instructions in my ear. “Slower, slower, little to the left, breathe, slowly, now GET HIM!!” I snatched him and held on tight. He went through the same ritual as his brother, trying to rip my epidermis to shreds, but I managed to clamp him against my body and even to conserve a large amount of my blood. Oh sure, a steady stream was leaking out of my neck but I was holding the kitten! 

“It would be a good idea to talk to him in a nice calm voice and get him used to you. You can stay for as long as it takes for him to calm down.” I did wonder at the prudence of taking advice from a person with three gaping wounds and countless other scars but I saw no alternative. 

We sat and talked for close to an hour. Among many other things, I learned the kitten I was clutching went by the name Ebenezer. While we chatted, a rough looking tom-cat showed up. I try not to judge quickly but this cat was clearly in a gang. His hair was long and matted, and there were two bites taken from the same ear. An oozing wound covered his left shoulder. With the words “This is Ebenezer’s father” I understood the power of generational curses.

By the time I was ready to leave, Jan had guilted me into getting another cat. I placed Ebenezer in a tall cardboard box on my passenger seat and closed the lid. Adding an extra layer of caution, I placed my purse on top and went to collect kitten number two. 

Five minutes later I returned to the car with one more cat and several more slices in my body. I gingerly opened the box so Ebenezer couldn’t jump out, but the box was empty! I looked again but there’s not many places a demon can hide in anempty square box. Jan sweetly told me she’s sure he’s in my car under a seat and could my brothers help me get him out when I got home? The image of any of my brothers helping me coax a cat out of my car amused me. I assured her I would be fine and placed the second in the box and quickly left before she conned me into getting a third.

Once home I decided to deal with Ebenezer first. After looking through the entire car, I found him huddled under the driver’s seat. I reached toward him only to hear the most evil, frightening sound in my history. “Hisssssss!” I leaped back, hitting my head on the car door. “If I pick him up right now I will die.” I reasoned. 

I went upstairs and got some food to lure him out. I placed the food strategically so that when he came out for a taste of stale bread I could easily grab him around the neck. I waited. And waited. And then it hit me – I’m not a patient person and what if he still hasn’t come out in another two minutes?

I had some suggestions from people, Megan’s being the most helpful, “Use a blanket.” I sat wrapped in the blanket for several minutes and it really helped me relax. Thanks, Megan! Then out of nowhere it occurred to me that I could cover my arms with the blanket, thus protecting them from deadly claws. This done, I reached for Ebenezer. He growled and I calmly withdrew, the ceiling coming down to clobber my head. I tried again and again with the same result. 

The sweaty, quivering creature scowled. The kitten scowled back.

I left to get some air, and found one of Dad’s thick over shirts and U-line gloves in the process. I listened to a Navy SEAL’s inspirational speech, prayed, recited Bible verses, and I was ready to go in. Ten minutes later Ebenezer was in his crate, snarling at me. I was exultant. I hadn’t eaten supper yet and the only thing between me and taco salad was one more small kitten.

I got cocky. I took off the over shirt and one glove and confidently opened the box that was still on the passenger’s seat. The box was about eighteen inches tall but when I went to open it demon number two leapt at my face and cleared the top of the box by a few inches. I went into brief cardiac arrest and slammed both the box and car door shut and forced myself to breathe. 

After a few minutes of hyperventilation, I pulled my protective gear back on and cautiously opened the door. When I opened the box this time, she leaped even higher and escaped the box completely. I once again slammed the car door shut and gathered my scattered wits. Moments later I gingerly opened one car door while picturing a screaming ball of terror hurtling towards my face. 

I couldn’t see it. I repeated the process over and over, looking under seats, in the glove compartment, center console and in every nook and cranny of the car. For thirty minutes I combed the car, but never once did I see a trace of a kitten. “But she has to be in here!” no amount of scouring produced a kitten so I gave up. I was no match for a kitten that had achieved teleportation. “Your name shall be called Phantom.” She didn’t reply but I’m convinced her spirit was there. 

That night the mental image of Phantom kept me awake. I could see her plotting revenge for ripping her from the comfort of a life under a trailer, being fed by a lady covered in cat hair.

I never saw Phantom again. Legend has it that she was spotted in the church yard performing satanic rituals and plotting Ebenezer’s escape. Whether that is true or not, Ebenezer escaped two days later also never to be seen again. 

So if anyone knows of an old, beaten down cat with the life completely sucked out of her, I might be interested.