I remember losing a cat on a day that I had to go to court to testify about a car accident. I had on pantyhose and a badly-fitting dress and heels, so was barely able to sit still and testify.
When I came home, my mother told me Buddy had passed away from his cat cancer while I was gone, which was very upsetting as I'd wanted to be with him. She wanted me to bury him, but she had put him in a paper bag and he'd gone into rigor mortis and his tail was sticking out of the top of the bag. So I changed clothes and went outside with a bag of dead cat and a shovel.
I had the hole about half-done when I heard a sound and looked up, and here come two Mormons heading down the driveway!
One of them hopped off his bike, smiled and said, "What'cha digging?" as if he couldn't see that I was crying and had a grocery bag with a furry brown tail sticking out of it next to me.
"A cat grave," I replied in my best flat, go-the-f**k-away voice.
"I think we'll come back another time," he said, and they hurried out of there.
05 Jul 2012, 4:44 pm
