-CATS III-
The Final Installment
by J. Verhagen

My First Girlfriend

It was a rainy day on campus when I met my first girlfriend
Wendy. I really hadn't found anyone I liked at Western til
then. Most of the women there tended to fall into three
categories. They either didn't like me, were taken, or were
available (having demonstrated their "availability" to half
the guys on campus). Wendy was somehow different. I could
trust her. There was a certain affinity there as well. The
day I gave up looking for someone to share my life (and mo-
ney) with was the day that she walked into my life.

She was standing by the door of the Natural Sciences build-
ing waiting for the rain to clear, when I came along. I was
crossing campus on my way home from a busy day at work. We
spoke a few words - sizing each other up. Then she left and
I felt like my heart just fell out onto the pavement.
Strangely enough, I began to see her more and more on campus
at different places. The big day I asked her out was the
hardest day of my life - but she said YES, and before you
could say "fooling around", she moved in with me into my new
apartment. I had moved out of that awful apartment building
in East London, into an old 10 story building in North Lon-
don. It was a bit cleaner and closer to work. Unfortunately,
pets were allowed in the building.

I shouldn't really say that *she* moved in with me. It would
be more accurate to say that her and her "children" moved in
with me. She had cats. A *shitload* of them. 4 of the little
bastards. Yes, I remember seeing them at her house when we
were dating. I remember picking cat-hairs out of the food
when I had dinner at her place. I even remember the time she
brought one along *during* a date - much to my chagrin. But
I NEVER expected her to bring them to my nice apartment - to
soil my floors, get cat-hairs in my butter, and barf hair-
balls in my shoes. This was just too much!

I raised the subject with her once, and like the bona-fide
cat-lover she was, she couldn't understand how someone could
not like her "children" "But, I like cats!", she would af-
firm - petting one in her lap. "C'mon - you don't honestly
want to get rid of Snookums do you?". She held the thing up
to my face. It countered my look of concealed hatred with
one of profound stupidity. I petted him, a sheepish "shit-
eating" grin crossing my face. "Of course not", I said - and
changed the subject.

The Great Idea

She was still out to class one day when I got home from
work. Snookums was playing with a ball on the rug, and
Miranda was sunning herself in the window. When Miranda saw
me watching T.V., she came and walked by me - rubbing her
loathsome form against my leg. Her tail stuck straight up in
the air and she was acting really bizarre. The fucking thing
looked like it was in heat! I was going to give it a swift
kick when I noticed a rubber band laying nearby. I picked it
up and leaned down to where Miranda was rubbing against me,
aiming straight for that exposed pink puckered asshole.
*snap* MEEEERROOOOOOOWWW! - It wailed, shooting from the
room like a bullet. I laughed and laughed and laughed while
the other cat, Snookums, grew nervous and quietly skulked
out of the room.

I was sitting there by the T.V. when I got a great idea -
perhaps precipitated by this event. Since I didn't have the
heart to tell Wendy to get rid of the smelly things because
I didn't like the relational complications that could
result, I decided that it would be better if I disposed of
them myself. I would wipe them out one by one over the next
year, making each one disappear without a trace. If neces-
sary, I would make it look like an accident. Of course, I
intended to be creative - and careful.

Snookums

Snookums was a grey striped cat that liked to sun itself on
the balcony ledge almost as much as Miranda did. He also
liked to barf big black hairballs all over the place. I saw
my great chance one sunny Tuesday afternoon when Wendy was
out at class. There the little fucker sat - licking its
paws. It looked at me with some alarm as I approached
although it couldn't have guessed what I had in mind. A gen-
tle prod with a broomstick sent it over the edge onto the
*splat* pavement below. "What the FUCK was that!", I heard
from the ground below. A female voice answered - "It's a
CAT - a CAT fell out of a window up there!" "Shit... ", the
first voice replied as the owner of the voice presumably had
a closer look at the cat's disposition.

I waited till the voices died down before looking over the
ledge. I saw it sprawled on the cement in a pool of blood 6
stories down. It looked like it must have landed on its feet
- although that didn't help it much. I didn't bother to
clean up the mess right away because I knew Wendy wouldn't
be home until dark and the entrance was on the other side of
the building. Needless to say, I waited till Wendy was fast
asleep before going out with a garbage bag and a shovel to
dispose of the little furball's remains.

Sunny

Sunny was a fat white fluffy cat that seemed to have two
functions in life - to eat and shit. In fact, it shit all
over the place - and usually in the most unlikely places.
Once, I found a turd in my shoes. Another time, I found a
turd under the kitchen table (where I was wont to put my
feet). When I came home from work one Wednesday evening to
find that Sunny had shit in my bed, I decided that I had had
enough of Sunny.

I cornered the little bugger in the bathroom and hog-tied
his legs with a rope. He managed to bite me and leave some
major scratches on my face (which forced me to avoid Wendy
for about a week), but eventually he was helpless. I then
took him to the litter box and buried his face in the poo
that Miranda had just left there. "see!", I shouted - push-
ing his snorting nose against the black catshit. "This is
where you go". "This is the place!", I shouted - pushing his
nose in again and completely forgetting that the information
would be of little use to him now.

I tossed him in the toilet to give him a better understand-
ing of advanced waste disposal techniques (and to drown
him). I flushed the toilet several times, using the rope to
raise him up enough so that the toilet wouldn't overflow.
It was unbelievable. After about half an hour of this treat-
ment, he was still alive! When I discovered that the little
fucker wouldn't die, I gave up trying to kill him and snuck
him down the fire stairs to put him out the back door. Ap-
parently Sunny got the message. He disappeared and NEVER
came back.

Jaynie

Jaynie was a black female cat that was in perpetual heat.
This one was Wendy's favourite. It also was the one that I
personally hated the most. It was always rubbing up against
my leg, or jumping in front of me. And it always had its
back to me. I never saw the cat's face - just its pink
asshole under a waving black tail. Needless to say, it an-
noyed the fuck out of me with its bizarre behaviour.

One day, I was going to the kitchen when I saw my chance.
There was Jaynie. Sorry. There was Jaynie's asshole and
tail. Apparently Wendy had been using the blender and had
left some scraps in the glass container. What's more - the
glass container was still on the machine, and Jaynie was
feasting on its contents. It didn't take much for me to grab
the hind legs of the beast and push it all the way in -its
face pressed hard against the blade. It took even less for
me to thumb the "liquify" button. RRRRRRRRRRR The machine
wailed - suddenly grinding to a halt on some obstacle. I was
disappointed because I had secretly hoped to "liquify" the
entire cat - flushing the mess down the toilet when done.
Now, I was left with a liquified mess AND a headless cat. On
top of that, a surprising amount of blood managed to get by
the opening and spatter the counter and nearby kitchen
shelves. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the doorbell
ring.

A quick glance outside showed me that Wendy was in fact OUT-
SIDE THE DOOR. Why didn't she use her keys? - I briefly won-
dered. I had to move fast. I grabbed the glass container and
cat's remains and shoved them in a black bag. I quickly
wiped all the blood I could find with a rag. This went in
the bag as well. Then I put the machine into the top cup-
board, and suspended the bag out the balcony window, hoping
that she would be unable to see it hanging there in the dark
(should she look out). About three minutes later and after
another quick inspection, I took a deep breath and opened
the door.

"Hi", I said sheepishly. "It took you long enough!", she
said in mock anger - coming in and wandering through the
house. "I was sleeping", I said. "You don't look like you
were sleeping - you look flustered", she pointed out. I was
at a loss for words. After awhile, she went for a shower and
I again checked the kitchen to make sure everything was al-
right. After the shower she was going to make scrambled eggs
for supper but couldn't find the container for the blender.
I had to play dumb while she went searching for it - telling
her that I didn't use it and that I would look for it tomor-
row. She didn't seem to notice Jaynie's disappearance at
all. The next day - I "found" the container for her and she
dined on "blended" scrambled eggs.

Miranda

Miranda was an annoying waste of space. She seemed to think
that everyone loved her and could do her no harm. Even after
the episode with the elastic I woke up one night to find my-
self face to face with the nasty beast - pressing its nose
against my lips as if it expected a kiss. Sure, Wendy did
stuff like that with it - but I couldn't stand it. I picked
the bugger up and tossed it like a football. It landed with
a thump just outside the bedroom door.

One day, several months after I knocked off Jaynie, I was in
the kitchen making something to eat. Along came Miranda -
popping up onto the counter and wandering around me, taking
care to rub off some hairs on any vertical object near my
food. I picked it up and "returned" it to the floor in one
deft motion. It came back up again. Too late! I laughed and
sat at the table with my sandwich. I removed my watch and
set it off to one side (I hate having obstructions on my
arms when eating) A while later, when reaching for my drink,
I accidentally "elbowed" the watch off of the table. It
landed with a loud "crunch" somewhere below. I went looking
for it and saw that it had fallen through the grate of a
heating duct. After I was done eating - I went hunting for a
screwdriver to get the lid off.

I saw that the heating duct was flat immediately below the
grate although it led off to one side under the floor,
abruptly sloped downwards. This duct was hooked up to a cen-
tral furnace somewhere at the bottom of the building. My
watch was sitting on the flat surface and I retrieved it -
noticing that the glass was shattered. I was royally pissed
off about my broken watch when Miranda began rubbing against
my leg again. Maybe that explains what I did next. I grabbed
the cat and shoved it DOWN the hole. A MREEEEOOOOOW was
heard receding into the distance along with the *thump*
*thud* noises that indicated where it encounted twists and
turns in the duct-work. An hour later the whole building
filled with thick black smoke and the fire department was
called. "It just jumped in there!", I later explained to
Wendy - an innocent look on my face. "I don't know why - It
just did". She was really cross, and wondered why I didn't
prevent this "tragedy". I stammered an explanation about how
I saw it jump in there out of the corner of my eye, but was
more worried about my watch at the time. I never though it
would do that, I explained. Eventually she bought the whole
story.

Epilogue

Wendy was just getting home from classes - or so I thought.
She had a box with her and set in on the counter. "Things
just don't feel the same here", she said - sadly pouring a
glass of milk. "What do you mean?", I asked. "Oh YOU KNOW.
Things just don't feel the same without my cats". I was pen-
sive and a bit afraid that maybe she had somehow caught on
to my scheme. "Hmmm..." I said, looking at the table (and
crossing my fingers). "I was just thinking" she started
again "Could I maybe get some MORE cats?". She was looking
at me in earnest. I couldn't say "no" because it would break
her heart, but on the other hand she *was* asking my opinion
(for once). "I'm not sure", I replied. She looked sad. In
fact, she looked *really* sad - her eyes growing big and
watery. "Well- If it'll make you feel better I.." - I was
about to say she could but before I knew it she had the box
open in front of me. "Some kid was selling these down the
street for 5 cents each - aren't they the cutest!". She was
beaming and enthusiastic - trying to get me interested in
what she had done. The box was full of kittens - THREE of
them. Sure they were cute - I thought to myself, but what
about when they grow up?