Living in the country as I do, if my cat should ever be flattened by a passing tractor, then I have decided to have his body mounted, bespoke framed and hung in my hallway, next to William Blake’s 18th century interpretation of Beelzebub.
With his head sizably smaller and disproportionate to the rest of his obese body, together with his pungent breath and excessive dribbling issue, he reminds me of something out of Stephen King’s cult chiller ‘Pet Sematary’ or maybe a configuration that Beetleguise might conjure up.
Often, he’ll swallow mice whole and then an hour later hack up their entrails for me to walk on and more disturbingly, his flatulence rattles bottles, moves objects and fires fur balls around the kitchen like tumble weeds.
Consequently, overnight house guests always leave hurriedly, refusing breakfast and burning rubber on the asphalt as they speed away, convinced they’ve just rubbed shoulders with a poltergeist.
I wondered then, if any of your readers can recommend a proven resolution for emotionally deranged cats like mine other than garrotting, or say, holding an exorcism?
