A Valentine Ode to Blacketta...

At Patrick's request I am dedicating a blog to the story of Blacketta, the aforementioned cat in my last blog who was our longtime childhood pet. Many of you may know the story of Blacketta, but some of my new friends and acquaintences have not yet been priveliged to hear of whom I will now refer to as "the cat who must not be named". (Just kidding, I really won't do that, but I wanted to set a foreboding tone...).

So, Blacketta was my older sister Julene's cat who lived with us for like over ten years. Basically, my entire childhood in California. So that you may picture her throughout this story. I have included this picture, which is not actually her, but this coincidental position will become rather ironic in just a moment.
Blacketta was somewhat of a promiscuous cat (and by promiscuous I mean I believe she had over 100 litters of kittens while we had her, and don't ask me why we didn't get her fixed, I was a child and I wasn't in charge of those things.) She prowled the neighborhood with a low guttural meow that signaled she was ready for business. (Well, she actually meowed like that all the time, but it seemed particularly poignant in those instances). I would often look out my window to find the neighborhood TomCats gathered on the lawn watching her literally roll around in the grass (pregnant or not). It was shameful and I took great pride in breaking up the gathering.
But Blacketta and my relationship had long since been strained, because of one horrifying incident when I was only about 6 or 7. We lived in Crestline, CA which was up in the mountains. Our home had a deck that encased the whole second story and that is where the legions of cats usually hung out. I was particularly annoyed with Blacketta one day because she kept antagonizing my cat Charlie (who was her son nonetheless, they were all somehow related to her). Because of this I decided I would throw her off the balcony and show her who was boss. It was winter and there was plenty of snow so it was not like I was actually going to hurt her, I just wanted to let her know that she didn't rule the place. After chasing her around for quite some time, I finally got her and proceeded with my plan. However, just when I was clinching the deal and letting her go she lodged one of her hideous claws into the bottom of my pinky finger. Of course after that the whole weight of her body was hanging by this one claw that was slowly and agonizingly tearing my pinky down through the tip. It lasted all but a few seconds, but in that time Blacketta managed to (of course) land easily on her feet and leave me standing there on the deck horrified with a split open finger that would need stiches and a grudge that would last (obviously) well into adulthood.
So this is why I believe cats are evil, I mean when you think about it, what does a cat really do for you? Sure it purrs in your lap and nuzzles up against you, but that is only because it wants to be petted, surely we can all see this. Now once again, I am not an animal person, but at least dogs can bark and provide some sort of safety measure and they usually are playful and loving. Cats are just in it for themselves.
On that note, I would like to wish everyone a Happy Valentines Day!