RightWingDeathBogan

Flat Cat Blogging.

I remembered this evening about the girl I consider the housemate from hell. She seems inoffensive enough, but she’s a bit of a twit. You’ve heard of passive-aggressive people? Well K is passive-passive. She spends so much time sitting on the fence that she’s got an arse full of splinters.

Anyway, K was living with C then moved out to share with me. C’s a bit of a psycho. And I mean with a capital PSYCHO. He lives in a rundown house with holes in the floorboards, his idea of doing the dishes is to leave them out in the yard for the rats and birds and rain to clean.

Yes, I’ve seen the plates sitting out on the back yard table.

And he likes to eat roadkill, and is a well (self) trained taxidermist.

As C’s a bit of a whackjob, K finally got over his moods, so moved out. Since I needed a housemate and we knew each other, had worked on a couple of jobs together, it suited both of us.

Of course, C lobbing a full can of beer at her helped her to that decision.

Her moving out didn’t quite destroy the relationship between them, but obviously placed a strain on it.

K also came with a cat she called Tigger. Tigger was a longhaired feral tabby. Why on earth anyone would try to keep a feral cat as a pet has got me, but that’s the way she is, I guess. So long as he could come and go as he pleased, he was generally ok. Not the most affectionate or demanding of cats, which was also fine by me.

So Tigger is out and about one night and doesn’t come home.

I’d gone to bed around 11 that night, not fussed since the window was open for him.

K came home the next morning around 8-9, and was looking for her cat. He didn’t come when she called, so I got roped into looking for him. I wasn’t quite compos mentis at the time, and didn’t have my glasses on, but from the back porch and looking down the driveway, there was a dark shape in the gutter across the road.

Of course K had to spot it just after me, and asked what it was. I said I don’t know, I need to get my glasses.

I head on out the front (with glasses on) with her trailing after me.

Yup, it was the cat. He had been hit by a car – one of those glancing blows that leave the animal barely touched physically, but still dead as a doornail.

I went back to get some gloves, and stuff to dispose of the cat and the bloody hysterics start.

“Oh, my baby! MY BABY!” Much wailing and gnashing of teeth, tears running down her face and screaming in agony.

I couldn’t believe she was reacting like that. Heaven knows what the neighbours thought.

I’m just glad I kept my back to her, because rigor mortis had set in, and the cat was stiff as a post. And I mean STIFF. I was nearly hysterical myself, but it was from laughing too hard.

The poor bloody cat was lying in the gutter on his side, four legs outstretched, tail likewise out straight, and when I picked him up, he still had his four legs and tails sticking out at all angles. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen – like something out of a bugs bunny cartoon.

Her screaming and wailing just added to the surreal nature of the day and my gut hurt from not laughing out loud. I didn’t think it would be politic to fall over in stitches. I don’t think she would have appreciated it somehow.

I got the cat wrapped in a towel, but didn’t get the chance to bury him or otherwise dispose of him.

K called up C (I agree, dumb idea) and wanted him to preserve Tigger’s hide. (Ya, even dumber idea).

So C agrees and comes over, collects the corpse, with much whining and sooking from him, too. (How do these people make it past the age of 12?)

Needless to say, he and K had yet another falling out, and it got even more dramatic when he nailed a piece of the bloody cat to the front door telling her to pay up or she’ll never see the cat again.

It was like something out of a d-grade schlockfest. Things like that really do happen. Of course, there was a happy ending to all of this:

I got to go with K to the court for a restraining order against C, I kicked her out and got The Godmother in as a housemate (yay) and C is still a total whackjob. He’s very creative, but still needs to be locked up.

K went overseas, and spends her time between here and there.

posted by Nilk @ 12:23 PM