Candy and the Turkey
by D. R. F.
I grew up in rural Washington County living on a street of homes each with its own small lot. The first pets we had were fish, guppies to be more specific. We were successful in raising the guppies so we were allowed the next step in pets, kittens.
The first cat ended up being two Siamese cats. Why? Because my brother and I each wanted our cat and didn’t want to share. My cat was a blue point Siamese I named Missy, while my brother chose a dark seal point Siamese kitten he named, Candy. Both kittens grew to be very fun and cuddly.
Candy grew up loving each of her family and a handful of close friends. All others were not welcome. She tolerated strangers but kept one rule very strictly, no touching the tail. Retribution was swift and sure. She was a very intelligent and polite cat; she knew how to delicately slurp beer from an open can without knocking the can over and without getting caught by the owner of said can.
For Thanksgiving, one year, Mom searched the markets for a large turkey. We were to have family over and that meant lots of food was needed. She braved the wild streets of Hillsboro, and then broadened her search to Cornelius. At long last she found the prey she’d sought. His name was Tom and he was all of 20 pounds. Mom smiled to herself as she carried Tom in her grocery cart to the check-out stand.
But, there was a problem with Tom. He was frozen straight through. Upon arriving home, Mom scrubbed and sanitized the kitchen sink. Then, Tom still in his plastic shirt, was put into the sink and left to defrost overnight.
That night, we gathered around the TV and enjoyed a simple sitcom. Candy sat in my brother’s lap, contented and purring. Missy slowly worked her way from my lap to under my chin. At bed time she would curl up on top of the covers happy to be nearby if needed; that is, if she needed petting and reassuring. Later, we were all off to bed, my brother and I to our
upstairs bedroom where Candy and Missy joined us.
I had nodded off when I heard a pounding. I tried to ignore it, but on it went. A shock ran through me and I remembered last year’s Christmas incident.
I arose, and with my baseball bat in hand I descended the stairs. My thoughts were on my parents. Why had they not awoken? They were in their bedroom down stairs and much closer to the noise.
I stepped down the long length of the laundry room. The banging was louder as I opened the door to the kitchen. The noise seemed to be coming from the kitchen window.
As I stepped into the kitchen there was a loud bang. I felt the vibration through my feet. I poised to depart whence I had come. Suddenly, the kitchen lights flashed on!
I leaped for the top of the refrigerator.
While I pealed myself from the ceiling, I heard Mom, in a very loud voice, asking what it is going on out here. We both turned toward the kitchen…..
Have you guessed yet? Candy, all 7 pounds of her, had dragged all 20 pounds of Tom from his resting place in the kitchen sink onto the floor, where growling and tugging she attempted to drag off her victim.
Mom rescued the Tom then turned her wrath upon Candy. Candy stared at Mom with an innocent look and then slowly turned to look at me. Mom slowly turned and vented her wrath upon me! Eventually I was sent back to my room where I found Missy warming the bed.
The next day was Thanksgiving. When I awoke, I smelled turkey; mm-mm . . . wonderful turkey. Mom and Dad were preparing the feast in the kitchen. I opened my mouth to speak, but hesitated. Mom turned and saw me, winked, and said “doesn’t that turkey smell wonderful?”
Eventually I let my mouth close. I dared not speak, but questions haunted me for years afterwards.
About the Guest Author
D.R.F. is an Information Technology professional. He was raised by a Blue Point Siamese kitty named Missy. He lives with his cats and family in rural western Oregon, USA.