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The Strange Case of Ms. Casspaw:
One, About Mr. Snooper and Ms. Casspaw:
Ms. Casspaw is a neighbor, who, until recently, seemed to be in
a difficult financial situation. Her wage earning husband had
abandoned her, leaving her a cat and not much else. Many of us
in the neighborhood helped out whenever we could. Recently, I
noticed that her situation had improved. I saw a professional
grounds care crew reworking her yard, her house was being sided,
and there was a new Towncar in her driveway. In addition we notice
furniture trucks and other delivery vehicles. I decide to stop
by to congratulate her.
After dinner, I cut across the back yard and tapped at her back
door. She was happy to see me and invited me into her kitchen.
"Would you like a bowl of warm milk?" she asked.
A bowl of milk was a new one on me, but I tried to control my
surprise.
"No thank you," I replied. "I just finished dinner."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I meant a cup of warm
milk."
I smiled. "A slip of the tongue," I offered.
"Yes," she said. "I'm so used to dining with Mr.
Snooper here. He takes his in a bowl."
She indicated the cat who was sitting on a booster seat in a chair,
lapping at a bowl of milk on the table. There was another bowl
of milk on the other side of the table, but I chose not to notice
it as I sat down.
"So I see," I said. "Well, I don't want to intrude,
but I could not help noticing your improved situation. I just
wanted to tell you how happy we are for you."
"That's very kind," she said, sincerely. "I've
been very fortunate. I've gotten into sales and trading. It has
worked out well, thanks to Mr. Snooper."
I smiled. "Brought you a bit of luck, has he?"
"More than that," she gushed. "Mr. Snooper has
been a real partner."
"A partner?"
She noticed my surprise and laughed.
"I think, I need to explain," she said.
I leaned forward and prepared to listen.
"You see," she continued. "Mr. Snooper and I have
developed a symbiotic relationship at the psychic level."
I confess, my mouth dropped open and my eyes grew round.
"It's true," she laughed. "We really did. It surprised
me also."
"I can believe it did," I managed. "How did it
come about?"
"Well, you will remember how tough I had it. All I had was
Mr. Snooper. I would sit in the evening with him on my lap feeling
sorry for myself. I was really down."
I nodded sympathetically.
"One evening, It was so bad that I was actually envying Mr.
Snooper. I was admiring how much in control of his world he seemed.
I was kind of wishing I could be like him."
She paused and looked at me with a rather wild conspiratorial
look.
"Then it happened," she whispered. "Suddenly my
thoughts and his were blending. It was really strange until I
got used to it. I found myself thinking of stalking a rabbit.
I got the sense of wanting to slam my claws into a jugular."
I was fascinated and my face showed it.
She continued, "Then, I put Mr. Snooper on the floor and
opened the door. He went out. Then, as I sat down, I was with
him. I was seeing through his eyes and feeling his wild thrill
of the hunt."
Her eyes were large and her face was flushed as she told the story.
"What a grand time we had," she went on. "I remember
the stalking. Then the final lunge and the ripping of the throat.
The gush of blood."
Her eyes glazed over as she spoke.
"Then I got nauseous and broke away from Mr. Snooper. It
was all too new to me and my human background could not handle
it. I was back here in my recliner."
"Fascinating," I said.
"Yes," she said. "That was the first time."
"It happened again?" I queried.
"Oh yes," she replied. "It got better each time.
Then I learned to use the relationship in my human dealings. Mr.
Snooper helped me a great deal as you can see."
She indicated her improved surroundings.
"That's really remarkable," I offered. "Exactly
how has Mr. Snooper helped in all of this?"
"Well," she replied. "Mr. Snooper helps me in making
decisions. My response time is much faster now and my actions
are much more decisive. With him as part of me, I'm much quicker
witted. He has steady nerve, so I never falter in my stock trading
or sales activities. I find I can read the body language of my
clients easily and know just when to move for the close. I've
done really well in the markets and real estate. Mr. Snooper also
helps me in dealing with telephone solicitors and other fools."
I hoped that she did not consider me a fool.
"It seems you have got used to being at one with Mr. Snooper,"
I guessed.
"To be sure," she replied. "That first time, Mr.
Snooper was very disappointed with me. He brought the dead rabbit
to the door and laid it there. Then he looked at me with some
chagrin and I felt bad. We got through that though and I tried
again. I found I could help Mr. Snooper in the hunt. I seems,
though he is quicker and more decisive than me, I have better
judgement in the planning stage. I decide where and what to hunt.
Then I go with Mr. Snooper and add what I can. We became a hunting
team for him and a financial team for me."
I couldn't help asking, "Have you come to enjoy the cat activities?"
"Oh, my, yes!" she exclaimed. "It has sort of grown
on me. I really have much more fun when I'm a cat. I have learned
to eat and enjoy the kill. It was very, very difficult the first
time I tried to eat a mouse, especially the fur and bones."
She grew thoughtful and gave me this advice.
"If you are ever eating a mouse," she said, "never
eat that little green sac. That's the gall bladder. If you bite
into that, it will spoil the whole meal. Believe me, I did it.
I couldn't eat for several days because the aftertaste in my mouth
was so bad."
"Live and learn," I said inanely.
"For sure," she smiled. "I've learned a great deal
as a cat; about cats and people too. It's amazing how little I
knew about being a cat when I was only human. We humans are so
opinionated, it's tragic."
I could not stop her from giving me a couple of examples.
"We think we know, but we don't." she said. "Like,
the reason I barf up birds after I eat them is not that they are
bad food, or that I'm full. I really like the taste of birds.
It's just that the feathers tickle my innards. It's the same reason
I make hair balls. I barf them up because the hair tickles my
innards. That stuff gets in there and starts tickling and I just
have to get it out of there."
I'm as tough minded as anyone, but I was starting to get a little
queasy.
Finally, she put the cat on the floor and he went out of his little
cat door.
"I hate to rush you, but it's time." she smiled. "We
are going hunting now."
"Not a problem," I assured her. "I'm happy that
you're doing well."
She went into the parlor and sat in her recliner. She leaned back,
placed her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and commenced to
purr.
"I'll let myself out," I said.
She just smiled and purred on.
Dusk was closing in as I stepped out. I saw the cat near a copse
of trees at the edge of the lot. He looked at me and I swear he
nodded. Then, just for a second, I saw Ms. Casspaw's face, there
in the dusk. I trembled and the cat was gone, gliding silently
into the trees.
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