Och! And my Momma! Sweet, beautiful Mama! I remember now what she used to say…

“You were a mistake, you little rat! If that no-good bum hadn’t’a knockt me up, I woulda never married ‘im! Now get th’ Hell outta my sight-”

My eyes spring open. That’s all I can remember my dear Momma telling me? Alright, so she said those exact words… more than once. Surely there was something else!

And then it comes to me! She did! She also used to say:

“Beer before liquor, never sicker. Now go get momma her ‘special medicine’.”

Oh God. I’m going to die.

Tigger, my orange calico enters. He must’ve hidden under the bed when the shelves fell. “Tigger!” I moan, “go get help!” I think maybe I saw a TV special where someone’s cat rescued them: it’s all I’ve got.

Tigger jumps onto the collapsed shelf; he’s not a svelte cat and it hurts. He strides paw-to-paw until he’s in my face. My eyes must be pleading. He begins to swat my nose.

I used to think it was cruel to declaw a cat. Now?

Mind’s changing on that one.