I love telling stories, and have quite a few of them. After I told a recent story to Dewy Mohler, a friend of mine, he said, “Marvin you ought to write a book.” So I decided, why not. I have reduced several of my favorite stories to writing, and when I have enough, I will try to publish them; probably self publish.
But, this is where you come in. I am going to publish these stories first here on my blog, and I invite your feedback.
So, without further ado, one of my favorite stories:
While I was in law school, we lived in a converted school house near Lawrence. My parents lived on a small farm near Ottawa. We visited them often.
On one visit, my wife, children and mother conspired to give us a pregnant cat. In another story I have told how we raised a litter of kittens, and how I rescued one of them from a tree.
We kept two of the kittens, and as kittens will, they grew into cats. One, a black female, we named Bagheera, and the tiger striped male we named Shere Kahn. (We had read Jungle Book to the kids and watched the movie several times.)
Shere Kahn was a very large tom.
Since Becky is allergic to cats and since we lived in the country, the cats were outside cats. Shere Khan and I became pretty good friends. We fed them on the roof of a small shed in the yard, and if I invited him. Shere Khan would step from the roof to my shoulders and ride around the yard. Like I said we were buds.
While I was in law school at the University of Kansas, Becky was working on campus. As a general rule we would drive into campus together, I would spend the day at the law school while she worked, then we would drive home again together. Occasionally, however, I went home during the day.
On this particular day, I was at home and, not surprisingly, almost let time get away from me. I hated being late to pick Becky up. She was working so I could be in school, and it seemed the least I could do would be to pick her up on time. In a rush I leapt into the car, realized I had left some essential in the house, and, leaving he car door open ran in to retrieve it. Back into the car, and I was on my way.
Suddenly I saw movement in the rear view mirror. Shere Khan was on the rear window ledge, his eyes big as saucers. I spoke to him and, seeking comfort, he came and draped himself across my shoulders. It was then I felt a warm sensation down my back, and I was suddenly seated in a pool of warm cat piss.
I don’t know that I had ever smelled tomcat piss before. Any house cats we had had while I was growing up had either been females or neutered males. Shere Khan was a big tom cat with, as I discovered, a huge bladder. The car reeked. I didn’t have time to return home to deposit the cat and change clothes, and I was afraid to open a window for fear he would jump out. I drove bravely on. When we arrived on campus I was afraid to open the window for fear the order emanating from my car would be obvious to everyone. So Shere Khan and I sat.
The good news: I was on time to pick up my wife. The bad: We had to ride home in that car.
Well, what do you think. Please let me know. And just in case you like it too much. It is hereby copyrighted, 2014.