2003-08-23 4:32 pm

Virginia's Cancerous Cat

Virginia's cancerous cat died.

I used to see it on my walk in the mornings, crouched in the gateway. It always seemed slightly startled that it was still alive.

One day its back right leg fell off. Somebody stuffed the leg full of sawdust and stitched it back on. At least, that was what it looked like. The leg used to drag heavily, like an unsolvable problem, or a half-raised anchor.

The circumstances of the death were regrettable:

Virginia went away for the weekend, leaving the cat in the care of Denise, an animal right's activist. Denise did not agree with Virginia's homeopathic beliefs, and sent the ailing creature off to hospital as soon as Virginia was out the front door. The startled cat was stuffed full of drugs, and died.

"She perpetuated the death of my cat!" sniffed Virginia when she spoke to me after her return. "And she lied! She did it behind my back!"

I am more annoyed at her misuse of the word "perpetuated" than moved by her grief for the sawdust stricken cat.

Virginia is no longer friends with Denise. But it seems to me that Denise cannot have been acting maliciously. She was misguided, perhaps, but we all make mistakes. Forgive and forget, that's my advice.

Platitudes like that should be employed sometimes. They are simple and crude - sawdust stuffed solutions, I suppose - but they are effective.

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