Well-I probably would have dropped out if the bidding went high, because my story's just a little one with a small animal in it but I bet I smelled just as bad as you guys. And where you were nameless victims, mine had a very definite personal and vindictive element to it.
We lived in a picturesque little cottage on the river during law school. Next door to us was our landlord's son, his very beautiful wife (who got drunk on Friday nights, sat outside, hollered, "Friday night, time to get right!" and played the spoons) his hunting dogs and a cat named Gabriel who beat up our cat, Agnus, at every opportunity. I hated that damn cat. I chased him, screamed at him, threw water on him, I even threw a glass of wine on him one night because it was in my hand and he was on top of Agnus. He hated me back, only me; once he leaped on my leg, dug his claws in, and wouldn't let go. I walked around screaming "GET OFF!!!!" and trying to kick him with my other leg, which doesn't work at all, don't try it. He never did this with anyone else. ANd I don't think Pam believed me when I told her he was evil.
When we returned to Lexington for a visit after graduation, we drove out to the river to wax nostalgic. And there was Gabriel coming up the walk to greet us. "Hi Gabriel," I said. I mean, it had been over a year. I was willing to let bygones be bygones. He was only a cat after all. I knelt down and held my hand out and that nasty animal walked up to me, turned around and sprayed me. That disgusting male cat thing they do. Dan thought it was very funny. I had to go down to the river and wash off. I smelled terrible. He is the only cat I've ever truly hated and I hope he died a painful and horrendous death. I'm only sorry it wasn't at my hands. |
