The Devil's Pet

Yesterday a black cat was wandering the streets of The Colony. I was afraid for my life every time I walked outside. Then some of the more brilliant people in my ward decided to put bowls of milk on their doorstep and feed the stray so that any chance of it leaving would be destroyed. If you know me at all you know that I'm terrified of cats. If I were to rank my top five fears, cats would fill the number one spot, no question. So you can imagine my fright when this little feline began appearing at various points throughout the day. I even had to cut my socializing short at break the fast and ward prayer in order to safely reside in my apartment, behind a closed door. Although Freud was a quack, I will admit that in this scenario he nailed it right on. I can trace the development of my fear of cats back to one cold, winter day in my childhood...

My best friend growing up owned a cat as a pet, something I can't fathom. It was snowy white with one green eye and one blue eye. I was always a little nervous around him, but afraid I was not. Then, one January day when I was a mere eight years old, it was a day like any other: Alyssa and I rushed over to Mikelle's to play with our American Girl Dolls, something we did six out of the seven days of the week. After several hours of playing make-believe we heard the phone ring. It was the phone call we dreaded every day: it was time to put the dolls away and go home for dinner. As we packed up our dolls and stood up to leave, the cat that had been perched on the chair watching us play arose and followed us out of the room. Just as my foot hit the first step on my descent down the stairs, this cat up and decides to bite me. On my rump. And again on my upper thigh. I'm not sure what I did to receive such treatment; I always thought I had treated him with respect. Sure, I wasn't one hundred percent comfortable and relaxed around him, but never had I ostracized him. Mikelle, of course felt horrible and immediately sent the cat to his room and locked the door. After a few tears were shed I hurried up the street and the comfort of my cat-free home had never felt so good. I suppose you could say it was a traumatizing event in my life. After all, it was the day the entire species of cats became the devil's pet in my mind.

And so, although I don't appreciate my fellow ward members encouraging this cat to remain in the neighborhood, I do have to admit that it helps me get in the mood for the next upcoming holiday. Black cat wandering the streets with Halloween just a few short weeks away: coincidence? I think not.