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Dah Cat

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“I am a prisoner in my own home!” my mother said, as she took a bite out of the questionable-looking broiled salmon at the Home Town Buffet.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Vell….It all started with a cat,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled into my cup of tea, knowing that some horrible story was coming.

“So, I started feeding dah cat. It like to eat the Fancy Feast, like the commercial.”

“You don’t even LIKE animals! I asked if I could have a dog for Christmas, and you told me that if I ever got a dog, it would EAT MY FACE, mom!”

“Oh, no but this is just a cute little cat! He had the DIAMOND eyes!”

“So then why didn’t you catch him, take it to the vet, get it some shots, and…keep it?”

“Vhat are you. CRAZY? It’s probably full of DISEASE!”

“So, wait…over the last few years, whenever I ask about the random freaking cat food on all our windowsills, you told me that grandma buys it to keep out the robbers. I thought it was some…superstitious….thing.”

“Yeah, she DOES use it to keep out dah robbers. And sometimes she uses pot lids. You know, last veek, she used a ketchups bottles, and I told her not to, and den it spilled all over dah place.”

I cut her off immediately, “Mom, do NOT change the subject. I can’t BELIEVE you are buying expensive cat food for some random stray cat.”

“Vell, it’s not just for dat cat anymore. I tink dat he told his friends.”

“Oh, god…”

“Yes, the baby cat told dah momma cat that he was finding dah good food at my house. So before I knew it, dere were three cats. And den four! And now, oh, my gosh, Stephie, dere is more den fifteen cats! Dey’re pissing and pooping all over dah yard, Stephie, it smells like dah city dump! I spray baby powder everyvhere, but it still stinks!”

“Stop freaking feeding the cats, Mom.”

“Vell, I tried to not feed dem, Stephie, I tried. But den all night, dey vere meowing, screaing, and pooping.”

“They’re pooping all over the yard because of the Fancy Feast, Mom.”

“You von’t believe it ; dese days, vhen I have to go to dah car, I have to carry sardines with me and throw them all over the place so da cats von’t follow me. But den if dey eat dah sardine too fast, den I have to vait in the car for dem to leave because I don’t vant to run dem over! I can’t LIVE like dis, Stephie!”

“Mom. Stop. Feeding. The cats.”

“And vhen I am all out of fish, Nagymama has to run in front of me vith a broom and sweep all dah cats avay so I can go to the car.”

“Let me guess…you’re trying to get to the car so you can drive to the store and buy more cat food?”

“Vell, dah cat food, it IS only a dollar. It’s no big deal.”

Photo by Sofi Gamache