Sunday, November 05, 2006

Feline Groovy

Christine didn't get out of the house much. It wasn't that men didn't find her attractive - well, they might have if she wasn't so obsessed with cats. It was hard to steer her away from cat-based conversations. How many furballs her Cuddles hacked up. How many times Cuddles used the litterbox a day. What Cuddles liked to watch on TV. Treatments for distemper. Et cetera.

Many's the time where Christine would go out on a date and the lucky (or unlucky, if you will) gentleman would leave in a maelstrom of shedded fur, cat dander and the smell of Tidy Cat lingering on the fibres of his coat.

Finally, one day, Cuddles died. No one suspected foul play, because he was 18 years old and blind with three teeth left. Christine was devastated. Cuddles...her life! Her joy! Her baaaaaaby! She buried the stiff little feline in the backyard with Mozart's "Lachrymose" playing solemnly in the background on her tape player. A small bouquet of roses adorned his modest marble tombstone inscripted Cuddles, Love of my Life.

But with the demise of Cuddles came the renaissance of Christine's social life. She cleaned herself up, put on a new pair of trousers with a 9-inch zip, and logged in to eHarmony. Dr Neil Warren, the nice man on TV, matched her up with Donald, a dog lover from Crestmont Heights (15 miles from her home).

They now are happily married with a son, named after her beloved Cuddles.

No comments: