stolen stories: two dead cats and a dead chicken

new york city presents curious problems. where does one dispose of ones beloved pet now spiritually in the beyond, but very much in your apartment?

miss hag's solution.
she decided to pot him in a giant planter under a giant tree where he rested for many months while they lived in the apartment, and then after having to move and finding the potted plant/cat was too large, she left in the apartment's shared courtyard, if you want to visit.

my friend the dressmaker's patternmaker's solution.
mind that this was in the 70's during the garbage strike. knowing that her trash was being watched, not wanting to get a ticket, and wanting to give an appropriately caring goodbye to her sweet pet, this patternmaker put her kitty in a box with all his favorite toys and them wrapped him up like a present with ribbon and a bow on top. she'd decided to use the disposal facilities at he work, so on her way in the next morning, she sat the "gift" next to her on the subway seat. at one of the stops, a man rushed in and grabbed the box and ran away with it. all the other people in the subway were yelling for him to stop, asking if she was alright, and she said that she didn't stop laughing all day.

sometimes the problem is that you just don't want to get caught doing something you shouldn't have...

my brother's solution.
he'd killed a chicken with a dart. i remember it well. the chicken just spun around in circles making a horrible racket for what felt like forever. if you're not from the country, you might find this terrible, but my brother had been reprimanded a bit recently for having killed several chicken. he argued that he was trying to kill the rooster that crowed under his window every morning, but my dad was no fool and he knew that my brother knew the difference between a chicken and a rooster, so he had to hide the evidence. he tied a rope to one of the chicken's legs and the other end to a brick, and threw it out into the middle of the bayou. chicken, tonight you sleep with the fishes.


orangemanmike said...

My cat from when I was growing up fell out of my parent's 35th floor apartment window in NYC. He may have landed on his feet, but that was about it. Of course, we didn't find him for 3 days until one of the workmen on the scaffolding surrounding my parent's apartment building found the recently departed cat.

So, orangemanmike's solution? Just throw the dead cat out the window and if someone says something say he must have jumped.

Though, I do like your brother's mafioso solution as well. Can't you just see the bottom of the East river littered with dead animals with bricks tied to their feet?

andebobandy said...

i can totally see it in a scene from the simpsons episode when professor frink shows bart and lisa their future. the camera pans across the river bottom past a slew of dead pets all with rabies tags towards homer's underwater house.