Sunday, August 5, 2007

Ripkin


We are just not cat people.

We don't have anything against cats, other than believing that they steal the breath from babies' mouths, and that they're Satan's minions on earth.

We even had one once: a cute and cuddly kitten. It ran away as soon as it figured it out how to work the screen door. Taking only a lunch and a small ball of yarn, away it went leaving only tears and a tiny hairball behind.


We believe cats can sense that we're not cat people and so come over immediately. They rub and purr and arch and bat their long eyelashes and make you dance to their tune by the light of the silvery moon.

However, a cat lives next door.

By this I mean, they feed him from time to time, and take him for shots or whatever it is that they take him for and the rest of the time he lives on my porch. Mine is the nicer porch I admit. His own shabby crowded porch is shown in the photos as he tries to escape my camera, screaming: "damn you TMZ, can't you just leave me alone!"

Ripkin he is called,
allegedly after some athlete, but more likely because he enjoys ripping birds and mice apart and depositing their entrails or other remains on my door step.

The Ripkinator loves nothing more than leaving nothing more than a fluff of feathers and a tiny beak for my naked foot to step into while fetching the morning paper.

A love offering.

On hot lazy summer afternoons and well into the evenings, he can be found under my small twig table seeking a little respite from the sun.

This then is Ripkin's life: sleep eighteen hours, then murder something and eat most of it. And.. what was it now...sleep some more.

This then is the Ripster's obit.

We've know him forever, he's fifteen or so by now; so, seriously, how much longer can he keep this up?

I though that I'd write his notice now, because who knows, I might not be around to write it later and I know for a fact that he likes to ego surf his name on Google.

I thought he might enjoy reading it now.

It moves me to tears just thinking about it.

Yep, just 'nother day in paradise.

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