char *(null)=" ghost.cat

ghost.cat

From netcom.com!csus.edu!csulb.edu!nic-nac.CSU.net!usc!cs.utexas.edu!utnut!torn!uunet.ca!uunet.ca!ablelink!dan.cramer Sat Jun  4 09:44:57 1994
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Subject: Fluffy the Ghost-Cat
From: dan.cramer@ablelink.org (Dan Cramer)
Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!csulb.edu!nic-nac.CSU.net!usc!cs.utexas.edu!utnut!torn!uunet.ca!uunet.ca!ablelink!dan.cramer
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Date: Sat,  4 Jun 94 07:46:00 -0500
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        This true cat tale comes from Michael Fadden


My wife is one of those people who have a place in their heart for stray
animals. I, on the other hand, am one of those people who don't like
cats. So I was less than pleased one evening when my wife came home with
a stray cat, which she named Fluffy.
    Well, ol'Fluffy and I didn't hit it off. I have a habit of hanging
my neckties over the door handle of my closet door, and it just so
happened that Fluffy quickly turned my ties into hanging pieces of
exercise equipment. He would work off his feline love handles by jumping
up and clawing my ties. Too stubborn and too stupid to simply fold my
ties and put them into my dresser drawer, I used my shredded ties as a
tangible argument why Fluffy had to go.
    After about six weeks and four or five ties destroyed, our landlord
received a mysterious anonymous note saying that the young couple in
apartment 7-B were keeping a pet cat. Since having the cat violated the
terms of our lease, we shipped Fluffy off to live at my in-laws' farm.
What a shame.
    Unfortunately, Fluffy was hit by a pickup truck two weeks later.
My wife took it pretty hard. My period of grieving was a bit shorter.
    Weeks passed and I was enjoying a pleasant night's sleep, not
battling my wife for control of the blankets as she was out of town for
a few days on business. I had a brand-new tie hanging on my closet door,
and all was right with the world. Then I was awakened by that familiar
scratching sound on the closet door, just as I had been many times
before.
    Seconds later, reality struck, and I sat straight up in my bed.
Fluffy was now residing in kitty heaven--so what was making the noise?
Just then, and I swear to this day, I saw that familiar white tail dash
out of the bedroom.
    My heart began to pound. I turned on the lights and ran to the
closet. I grabbed my four iron out of my golf bag and searched the
entire apartment, feeling like I was in the middle of a Stephen King
novel. As I bent down to look under the sofa, golf club firmly in my
grip, I expected a crazed wildcat to dart out and sink its silk-covered
claws into my throat.
    Ten minutes later, after finding absolutely nothing, I sat on the
edge of the bed and laughed at myself. A grown man allowing his
imagination to run wild, like a teenager staying alone for the first
time.
    I returned to my slumber.
    The next morning, I laughed again at myself as I got dressed for
work. But as I stood in front of the mirror putting on my tie I looked
down and...and it was shredded at the bottom! This was a new tie! I
don't think I took my next breath for at least seven minutes.
    I picked up my wife at the airport that night. I was too embarrassed
to tell her my story.
    Weeks have passed since that bizarre night. But my wife's going to
be away again in a couple of weeks. I think I'll put my ties in my
dresser drawer, and maybe I'll share the blankets with my four iron.
Just in case...
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