The Dead Cat Story

You know how over the years, stories become legends in a family? Well that is the deal with my family and the dead cat story. If you listen to my father's version of the story, it's WAAAY out there, completely different than my version. (which I still hold as the truth)

Warning, if you are a member of PETA, you may be upset by the story. Don't read any further or get over it.

So we lived way out in the country. Our neighbors down the street had some feral cats, one of which kept coming up on our property and getting in the trash, killing our baby ducks, and peeing everywhere. My Dad kept telling the man down the street that if he didn't do something about it, he was going to shoot the cat. The neighbor encouraged him to do so, since the cats weren't really theirs, they were just wild.

Now I love cats and I didn't want my Dad to shoot it, so any time I saw the cat on our property, I would try and scare it and chase it away so it wouldn't come back.

One morning, I was walking out to my car to go to school; I was a senior in high school. I saw the cat asleep under a tree near my car, so I thought to myself, "here is my opportunity to really scare the crap out of this cat and it'll stay away."

So I grabbed a stick. NOT a 2x4 as my father likes to tell the story. And I proceed to sneak up on the cat. Can you see me? Sneeeaaaking quietly up on the sleeping cat.

SO I POUNCED! I hit the cat a few times with my stick (small stick) before I realized it was already dead. Then I hear my Dad laughing...he had heard me leave and went to the window to tell me about the cat so I wouldn't be surprised and upset, only to see me sneaking up on a dead cat. He had caught the cat the night before killing the ducks, shot it, and had put it by the tree to bury the next morning.

My sisters told the story to my friends at school and for the rest of the year I had the nickname Cat Killer, or CK for short.