Of death and fruit and pies
Oct. 1st, 2008 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeanvieveSo there we were, watching the pilot episode of Pushing Daisies. Neither mom nor Geofry had seen it, and with the Season 2 first episode coming up tonight it seemed a good idea to catch them up. For those of you that don't know the jist of it, it's a surreal series about a young man who can bring things back to life. At this stage, he confines it to bringing spoiled fruit back to life and baking them into pies and investigating murders.
Picture then three of us sitting and with Geof and I cutting open plums from the tree in back to render down into plummy sauce goodness when the phone rings. Without answering it, mom jumped up saying she had to run next door. Meg from next door left a teary message on the answering machine. A few minutes later I was had a moment of weak human kindness, but as Geofry was much more close to fully dressed than I, I sent him out to go investigate instead.
He returned asking if we have a shovel, and where. Yes, it was time to bury a cat from next door, the very rogue "Slinkie" who terrorized our girlie cats late at night in our own yard along with the squirrels, the pigeons, and any number of small garter snakes. We sang a chorus of "Nobody's Moggy Now" before I explained that the shovel was off by the back fence.
A short time later they both returned. That was quick, I observed. Then the truth began to emerge. Mom had apparently found the body by the side of the road that very morning. Meg was in tears, sobbing something like, "I thought I'd taught him not to cross the solid line in the road by the sidewalk." Again, for the sake of my karma, I can only be thankful it wasn't said in my presence. Taught a cat not to cross a painted line. Anyone? Anyone at all? So they dealt with it - didn't they?
But no. Apparently there must be ceremony. A burial tomorrow at 1pm in the back yard. Not ours, I interjected hastily. No no, next door. And you're not putting it in our freezer. So the cat is going to sit in a plastic bag in the garbage until it's internment. Not being brought back to life. Not this time.
Picture then three of us sitting and with Geof and I cutting open plums from the tree in back to render down into plummy sauce goodness when the phone rings. Without answering it, mom jumped up saying she had to run next door. Meg from next door left a teary message on the answering machine. A few minutes later I was had a moment of weak human kindness, but as Geofry was much more close to fully dressed than I, I sent him out to go investigate instead.
He returned asking if we have a shovel, and where. Yes, it was time to bury a cat from next door, the very rogue "Slinkie" who terrorized our girlie cats late at night in our own yard along with the squirrels, the pigeons, and any number of small garter snakes. We sang a chorus of "Nobody's Moggy Now" before I explained that the shovel was off by the back fence.
A short time later they both returned. That was quick, I observed. Then the truth began to emerge. Mom had apparently found the body by the side of the road that very morning. Meg was in tears, sobbing something like, "I thought I'd taught him not to cross the solid line in the road by the sidewalk." Again, for the sake of my karma, I can only be thankful it wasn't said in my presence. Taught a cat not to cross a painted line. Anyone? Anyone at all? So they dealt with it - didn't they?
But no. Apparently there must be ceremony. A burial tomorrow at 1pm in the back yard. Not ours, I interjected hastily. No no, next door. And you're not putting it in our freezer. So the cat is going to sit in a plastic bag in the garbage until it's internment. Not being brought back to life. Not this time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-03 12:44 am (UTC)