Catzilla in Love by Sally Law Artwork by MKFlood at FanArtReview.com |
It was that time of the year. Cupid's arrows were flying and striking both man and beast.
Valentine's cards and heart-shaped chocolates lined the shelves of every retailer and grocery store. Couples walked hand in hand down the streets; pausing for a kiss. Love was in the air. Junior, however, was in a mood. My orange Tabby cat and descendant of my first ferocious feline, Catzilla, was a much sweeter cat. Oh...he had his days, but overall, a great little guy. I took it upon myself to cheer him. A better grade of cat food perhaps. A new squeaky toy or soft blanket for sleeping was sure to please. Nope...wasn't happening. I had been home sick with the flu and thought possibly he might be depressed because I was not myself. As my health returned, I thought it was time for an outing. I had missed getting paid because I had been ill. Cash flow was low, and I felt the urgency to swing by the law firm where I was the receptionist, and pick up my paycheck--pronto. My Valentine purchases needed to be made. A genius thought came to mind. I would put Junior in the car and take him with me. Fresh air, sunshine, rock n' roll tunes playing on AM radio. What could be better. Or, so I thought. Scooping up Junior, I hauled his ponderous bulk to the car. He reclined more than he sat upright in the black "pleather" bucket seats. He was not used to such finery. He had put on some weight--another sign of his declining state. "I think a new collar in a larger size is needed for you, old pal. This is gettin' to be way too tight." I tugged at his collar to confirm my suspicions. He just looked at me with depressed eyes. I tucked him in and we were off. It was time for some therapy. The day was a fine one and filled with all the necessary things to cheer both humans and cat species suffering from clinical depression. We arrived at the law office of my employer, Mr. Stockman, Esq. He was a full-time farmer and a part-time lawyer. He had hired me immediately when I told him I could type as well as make coffee, be nice and sweep off the front entryway. Apparently, the Women's Liberation Movement had caused such a ruckus, no one was willing to do the ordinary everyday things a small law firm required. I volunteered without hesitation. It seemed ridiculous to me at the time that those things had become a contentious office issue. I was happy to make coffee and being nice was my specialty. I threw the typing skills in for good measure on my job application. Mr. Stockman's old pickup truck was parked out front--and, as it was a Saturday, I decided to stop by with Junior. He loved cats and hadn't seen Junior in a long time. Balancing Junior with one hand, I rang the bell and rapped on the door. He was a little hard of hearing so I did that a few times before I used my key. I hollered as I opened the door. Junior was still in my arms and immediately jumped down and scurried back to see my boss. I heard him greet Junior and speak to him in his cat-lovers voice. A heavenly smell hit me and I realized I was just in time for coffee. Locking the door behind me, I ventured down the diploma-lined halls of his long established firm. Trying to act surprised that he was working on a Saturday, I poked my head into his office. He was still affectionately petting my cat. He also had his cat, Pumpkin', along with him. "What in the world are you doing here you pretty little thing?" I picked her up and smiled into her emerald green eyes. Mr. Stockman answered, "Pumpkin' is here to keep me company today. I was loading some root vegetables into the truck and she jumped in the cab as if to say, where to, now?" He proceeded with his line of questioning. "How about you, Sal? What brings you and Junior in on such a beautiful day?" "Junior is depressed and I needed to pick up my paycheck. Killing two birds with one stone," I replied. We chatted for a while and I surveyed the vegetables he had left in the kitchen for everyone to take home. He always brought in his farm fresh produce for all the staff to enjoy. We were so engaged in conversation, neither one noticed that our cats had slipped out of sight. They were not gone for long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Junior finally reappeared as he curled around the mahogany bookcase near the doorway. He seemed cheered and more like himself. I finished up a cup of the irresistible coffee as I packed a few potatoes into my oversized purse. We said our goodbyes and thank yous as I gave Pumpkin' one last petting. Junior gazed at her with longing. He kept looking back at the door as I hoisted him back into my 73' Ford Pinto. He sat up perfectly straight to stare at the front door of the law office until it was out of sight. Promising Junior we would come again soon, we motored on home. We did come again to see Pumpkin' two months later. She had birthed four kittens, two of them were orange Tabbies...the exact likeness of Junior. I was right. Love was in the air as Cupid's bow and arrow took aim. It struck Junior and Pumpkin' that day. My boss announced with great pleasure that I was to be the proud owner of Catzilla III. The three-week-old kitten arrived along with a basket of farm fresh produce delivered right to my door. How kind. But, thankfully, Junior was no longer depressed. Now it was my turn.
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Sally Law
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