More Dead Pet Stories - Tom

Sadly I have more of these than I can comfortably share.  You know, statute of limitations and all. But this one I just remembered and thought some of my more twisted readers ( like all of you) might be able to relate.   or not.

My sister has a tender heart.  She loved all of her sweet pets with fierce passion.  I, on the other hand, loved them from say, the backyard.  I love animals but hate animal hair, saliva, litter boxes, pet food, touching them when I can feel stuff OTHER than fur, their breath, and smacking noises they make with their lips.  [ remarkably I'm still married - feel free to draw comparisons]   Kim loved her cat, Tom.  Side note: All of our cats were named Tom.  Yes, all of them. Something my mother insisted on.  I never asked)

my little sister and one of many Toms

 One evening my mom , sister and I were coming home late from who knows where and as our car topped the hill right in front of our house the car lights revealed a very sad, very dead crumbled furry form in the street.  Trying to protect Kim's sensitive side, mom and I locked eyes and silently agreed we'd take care of this without her.   We pulled into the driveway and after Kim was otherwise engaged mom and I snuck out to take care of old Tom.  Well, it was in January and very cold.  Like COLD.  As we approached old dead Tom we saw that although he was indeed dead his tail was still sticking straight up in the air.  And that was kind of the beginning of unrecoverable giggles.  Which was how we always handled sad situations.  This method did NOT work at my grandmother's funeral.  We drug Tom off the street by his tail and tried to find a place to bury him.  The ground was so frozen it was impossible for us to make a dent in the dirt.  What to do, what to do.     

We decided to stick him in a bag and throw him in the backseat of the car and on the pretense of some errand find a place to take care of him.   Mom started driving around looking.   After a few minutes  Mom looked at me with a strange expression on her face , I said "What?"  She said " did you fart?"   ( not something the women in my family ever did much less admitted to ) and I said " NO, I thought it was you!  Mom said " It's the damn cat". Dead frozen bodies and warm cars.      We could not stop laughing.  Mom said," oh god, it's getting worse - I can't take it any more.  Kelly, grab the bag , roll down your window and when I round this next corner you fling him as far as you can".      Which I did.    And for years afterward every time we drove through that turn we locked eyes and smiled.   

There have been moments since then that I have been tempted to bag up certain individuals and see how my flinging skills have fared.  With just the right amount of speed .................