Thursday, November 16, 2006
With Apologies to Lillian Jackson Braun
A strange thing happened earlier this week. I had driven in to the office on Monday, which I usually do once a week (the other four days I pretend to work from home). During lunch I had stopped at the hardware store to pick up some new bits for my router. I maintain something of a workshop in the guest house, a place where I can be alone for a while and turn perfectly nice pieces of wood into a combination of toothpicks and sawdust. When I arrived home, I first went to the guest house to drop off the new bits.Curiously, I noticed that the glass in the screen door was broken. I went in and turned on the porch light and investigated the scene. I found, laying in the grass, a hammer and a piece of cloth. Further, I saw on the walk a bit of fabric and a few drops of blood. Seeing as I keep some expensive audio and computer equipment in the guest house, along with many of our spanking toys, I became alarmed.
I headed to the main house and alerted Angela of the situation. Fortunately, my lovely wife is quite adept at making quick and sensible decisions. She immediately phoned her best friend, Bernie, who, as you may recall, was an office of the law.
Bernie came over and carefully examined the scene, taking several notes during the course of her investigation. Despite the fact that Bernie is quite good at her job, she seemed puzzled. She appeared ready to conclude when Cat, the ethereal feline that has apparently watched over this property since, well, forever, wandered up. In typical cat fashion, she sat down in the middle of the walk and began to lick her paws, paying no attention to those of us standing there. Bernie and Cat have a friendly relationship, so Bernie absently reached down and began to scratch Cat’s ears. It was at that point that Bernie noticed a bump on Cat’s head.
Angela, who has an excellent touch with animals, took a look over Cat and noticed a other odd things. First, one of her front legs seemed to be tender. Second, the paw that she was grooming was bloody and scabby, and one of her toes was hanging at an odd angle. Lastly, imbedded in the scab on Cat’s paw, was a bit of thread. Seeing these things on Cat, Bernie became very thoughtful and began to review the scene again.
With Bernie engrossed in her investigation, Angela and I went back to the house to start dinner, inviting Bernie to join us when she was finished. About one-half hour later, she did so. At that time, she informed us that the had concluded her examinations and had deduced what had occurred.
Apparently, someone had tried to break into the house. As a security measure, I keep the front door and the screen door locked. The burglar appeared to have broken the glass with the hammer, covered with the cloth to muffle the sound. Bernie found some gouges near the door knob of the main door, so apparently the burglar had used the claw of the hammer to attempt to gain entrance to the house.
At that point, Bernie deduced, Cat came upon the burglar. Based on the lump on Cat’s head, the location of where the hammer was found, and the proximity of the cloth to the hammer, it looked like that the burglar had thrown the hammer at Cat, trying to discourage her presence, grazing her head. This is where things got weird.
In Bernie’s opinion, rather than abandoning the scene, Cat instead took umbrage at the burglar and took steps to defend herself and her “property” (we’re quite sure that, in the cosmic scheme of things, Cat is the rightful owner of the property and we are just leasing it from her with her permission). From some of the indentations on the grass, the blood, and the bit of thread on Cat’s paw, it appeared that the burglar had attempted to kick the poor animal. However, Cat isn’t so poor.
Bernie had concluded that Cat dodged the kick and countered. Figuring that the burglar’s leg, having missed the kick, was somewhat off the ground, Bernie assumed that Cat had chosen as her target the burglar’s family jewels. For those of you who may not recognize that euphemism, I’m referring to the poor man’s balls. There appeared to be a brief struggle, at which time Cat likely dug her claws into the miscreant, and when the claw was dislodged, she tore the skin between two of her toes and took with it a small amount of the bad person’s trousers. The burglar then panicked and made a hasty retreat.
Bernie made a proper police report, and followed up the next day. She discovered that a man had appeared at a local hospital emergency room with pants torn in the crotch region, and nasty scratches in the general region of his scrotum. Although the man had given a false address, he had presented an insurance card, from which Bernie was able to ascertain the man’s true name and address. She paid the fellow a visit, and when she pointed out the injury to his genitalia was consistent with an encounter with an angry pussy (for those of you with perverted minds, I’m talking about the cat), the man offered a full confession and promised restitution.
Of course, cat modesty does not allow Cat to show any pride in her heroics. We have, however, rewarded her with as much tuna fish as she can eat. We still do not know the origin of Cat. The previous owners of this property, who built the house, swear that Cat has always been around. Further, the beast has been patrolling around as long as we’ve lived here. That would make her about sixty years old. She has allowed us to gather her up and take her to the vet to keep her shots up to date. The Vet swears that he cannot determine the age of the animal, she has clearly been spayed, and she is most healthy. We’ve decided that, either this cat’s nine lives are all quite long or that she is immortal. Whichever is the case, she appears to be most adept at guarding our homestead. She’s more than adept. She is ….. (wait for it) …. Fantastic!
