Cheers to The Poison Man

I never thought I would be so happy to see the Poison Man.  It defied all logic, but the Poison Man saved my life tonight.  Not that any minute of this night was easy, but somehow I managed not to get myself killed.

It started out pretty much like any other night.  I was hungry.  And so as soon as things seemed quiet enough, off I went.  I searched the typical happy spots.  These would be the places where most of us find what we like to eat.  My happy place is on the floor right under where the Tall People themselves eat.  Here, everything is right out in the open.  And even though “open” is a dangerous place to be when you’re like me, I did a superb job of scoping everything out and there were no signs of anything menacing.  But alas, there was also nothing to eat.  Sometimes the Tall People use The Wind Sucking Machine and that makes my scavenging much less convenient.  But I did smell something fruitful in the air.  Oh, yes I recognized that smell.  I’d found some in my happy place just two nights before and hot damn was it delicious.  I scurried across the floor and followed the magical scent.  I have to tell you, I don’t like the Food Box, AT ALL.  But, given the circumstances, you can’t blame me.  I smell garlic and it’s like every instinct I have goes out the window no matter what the potential for danger is.

It’s a scary thing, The Food Box.  It’s so big, and loud.  And COLD.  And I don’t like the cold at all.  And it has some very foul odors, which is something a lot of people wouldn’t guess would bother me or my friends.  But, some Tall People smells are pretty nasty.  Yet, through all those terrible smells of the people and gases, was the garlic.  Or, as I like to call it, the smell of Eden.  

Tonight I tracked that ambrosiacal smell, that GASTRABULOUS smell, and it was wafting from right behind the back of the Food Box.  The back of the Food Box is a very different place than the other sides.  It’s such a nice cozy place.  It’s so dark and warm and free of Tall People.  It’s the kind of place that makes you feel very safe and comfortable.  A place like this makes you forget all of your fears.  SO, that comfort, as well as my overwhelming obsession for all things garlic pretty much hypnotized me into a one-track saliva machine.  Damnation, what garlic will do to you.  

Fortunately for me, my garlic grabbing skills were like lightening tonight.  If it was a crumb of bread, or even a dollop of peanut butter I would probably have bit the dust in The Snapper.  My god, I don’t understand the Snapper at all, but it is so LOUD when you hear it WHACK!  And when you feel the breeze as it slams down right next to your whiskers, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes.  And no matter how much you learn about them in school, you still have no idea it’s coming when you actually come across a real one.  I’ve heard some stories, and let me tell you, none of them are good.  My father, may he rest in peace, met his match with The Snapper and the last vision I have of him is with his eyes bulging out of their sockets and his spine broken through the skin of his back.  You can’t blame him though.  He was after a hunk of French Camembert.  Not many of us ever beat The Snapper.  It’s just sometimes you get lucky.

So, after I calmed my pounding heart down with my garlicky lunch, I was ready for some fun.  I knew everyone would be hanging out downstairs, so after climbing through the wall (I took the short cut of course), I saw all my buddies in the Water Room.  They were all huddled together, just hanging out, it seemed.  Possibly playing Texas Hold ‘Em, but they might have just been shooting the shit.  I scurried out into the mix and as far as that decision goes, I was just dumb.  I didn’t see was what was now hovering over all of us, and none of my retarded friends even warned me.

The Cat wasn’t attacking, but that was probably just some stroke of luck.  So, now there I was, standing haunch to haunch with my comrades, all of us frozen in absolute fear.  Because if there’s on thing you don’t want to come up against besides The Snapper, it’s The Cat.  After my heroic escape from death by snapping just minutes before, I thought about how ironic it would be that I was soon to become some ritualistic feline gift to the Tall People.

All of us were scared stiff, except for the shaking of our skeletons.  The Cat was eyeballing each and everyone of us and our doom was sure to be met at any stroke of the second hand.  And that was when the Poison Man came in.  The Cat ran, and so did we.  In opposite directions, of course.  And my direction, for one, was out of The House.  And I don’t think it would be very wise of me to return for a week or two.  I’m not sure where I’ll go.  Maybe your house.