Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Pablo Died Today (standard:non fiction, 2531 words) [1/2] show all parts
Author: casio1933Updated: May 03 2008Views/Reads: 1418/874Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Pablo was my cat. He lived almost twenty years. Since I sometimes writing in the first person, I am letting Pab be my spokesperson (cat). I hope you enjoy his stories. All feedback is appreciated.
 



Pablo Died Today 

A Collection of Short Stories and Personal Essays 

Pablo died today (August 3, 1987) ? he had been in a coma for three
days.   He was crying last Friday night and I held him in my lap from 
about midnight until after two A.M.  When he went to “sleep.” 

Three weeks ago two Norwegian elk hounds from next door jumped on him. 
They roughed him up some ? he left one of his fangs  (the first he had 
ever lost in almost twenty years) in one of the attackers.   My 
neighbor's eighteen-year-old son was a little upset, because  "your cat 
beat up on my dogs." 

I got to thinking about the changes that had taken place in my life and
my wife's during the twenty years we have known,  (no one could ever 
own the fierce independence that was), Pablo.  I decided to write it 
down from Pablo's viewpoint.    Many individuals who have lived 
distinguished lives and/or have lived an unusually long time have their 
autobiographies "ghost written."   Pablo may not, by some standards, 
have lived a very distinguished life.   However, no one can argue that 
twenty years of active life for a cat is not unusual. 

Kay and I have known Pablo since he was a kitten in September of 1967.  
I believe I am singularly well qualified to tell his story. 

PART I INDIAN TRAIL, NORTH CAROLINA ? 1967/68 

I was born one of four kittens on Davidson Drive in Indian Trail, North
Carolina sometime in early September 1967.  My mother was a CFA 
registered Siamese ? my father was "a traveling man." 

My first recollections include the time I lived with Charlie. Charlie
lived next door to the house I was born in and I had been given to him 
as a  "companion."   Charlie was a good sort.  Though into the bottle 
pretty heavy, he never mistreated me.  Charlie lived alone when I went 
to live with him and, for the most part, he saw that I had enough to 
eat. 

Sometimes when the weather was cold Charlie would forget to let me in
the house at night.   It was one of those nights ? I had hollered for 
an hour; Charlie was drunk.  Looking for a warm place to sleep, I found 
one. I climbed up inside the engine compartment of Charlie's new 
Chevrolet, curled up and dozed off. 

The next thing I knew Charlie had started his car to go to work.   All
the noise scared the piss out of me.  I was afraid to move, I hollered, 
but no one could hear above the roar of the engine.   I wasn't hurt and 
I figured if I just sat tight, sooner or later, things would quiet down 
and I could get out. 

  Click the button below to send the text      OPTION 3 - email your
story to the webmaster. As a last alternative, you can alThings did 
quiet down, but only after the twelve-mile trip into Charlotte (Charlie 
owned a photography studio in Charlotte).   By the time we got to 
Charlie's studio and he had parked I was really howling ? Charlie heard 
me and took me out of the engine compartment.   As I said earlier, I 
had pissed all over the engine and myself as well.   The engine had 
gotten pretty hot on the drive into town and, while the smell did not 
bother me too much, Charlie seemed not to want me inside his studio.  
He put me inside the car on the back seat, but not before I bit and 
scratched hell out of him.  He should have brought me into the house 
the night before. 

At the time I was only about three months old and it seemed like I was
hungry all the time.   Charlie knew this and brought food and water out 
to the car two or three times during the day.   This was the best deal 
I'd had since Mama's tit.  On the way home that evening I decided to 
"camp?out" in the car for a while. 

Charlie tried to coax me out of the car when we got home, but I hung
tight and climbed up under the dashboard.  I really didn't mean to 
screw up his radio, cigarette lighter and instrument lights.   As it 
turned out the spot under the dash was pretty comfortable.  That night 
and I decided to stay there while I was  "camping out."   Charlie 


Click here to read the rest of this story (163 more lines)




This is part 1 of a total of 2 parts.
  show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
casio1933 has 4 active stories on this site.
Profile for casio1933, incl. all stories
Email: casio1933@yahoo.com
Due to abuse, voting is disabled.
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.

stories in "non fiction"   |   all stories by "casio1933"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2014 - Artware Internet Consultancy BV