The gray cat, circa 1970

My sister adored cats. Always had a bunch of them and treated them better than most people treated their own kids. My brother and I liked cats also. But probably not as much.

So one morning my brother and I woke up early and noticed that the gray cat (Grays) was dead. We knew Sis would freak out when she saw him dead, so we did what any caring brothers would do....we put the cat in a sitting position (rigor mortis was just starting), put a book in his lap, and a cigarette in his mouth, and then waited for Sis to wake up. The cat looked pretty sophisticated sitting there just a reading and a smoking.

She came out about four hours later and the cat was as stiff as a board just sitting there with the Gideon's and a Marlboro. She picked him up and the cat remained in the sitting position with his paws still clutching the book.

I don't think she ever knew she had a cat that could read.


Good times.