Catnapped

For 14 months she sat vigil at the corner of Main and Columbus in my tiny town watching the world go by. Then she was gone, just like that.

   In a mirthful mood, I had placed the metal kitty cat figure on the corner next to a stop sign in a bed of new gravel after weeding the overgrowth in what had become a traffic hazard. I figured seeing the kitty might trick Main Street speeders into slowing down. I believe the idea worked. The little metal statue on the street corner looked enough like a real live cat from a distance cars would slow down just in case. Also, seeing the statue might just put a smile on your face. I think that worked too.

    Then some creepy cretin decided to remove the kitty. The missing victim is black, about one foot tall. The kitty is strewn with holes so putting a candle inside will shine through at night. No scars or tattoos. No collar and no chip. Value is priceless.

    I’m hoping the kitty will be voluntarily returned, rather than I find it on my own since I am often misjudged. People think I’m sort of an Amishy guy in my soul. Cool. Level headed.  Nice. I am none of these things. If you could see my thoughts, you would know they belong on a wanted poster. That’s on a good day.

    The little statue belonged to my late mother who was living in Falun at the time of her passing. She is buried at the Falun cemetery. I mention this only because she was partial to the kitty figure and I believe she’s still walking the earth in her ghostly guise. You really don’t want to get on her wrong side.

     I have gotten on her wrong side from time to time since she passed and I have regretted it and she was my mother. Imagine how she would treat a stranger.

    I realize I could report the kidnapping to the local police and a crack detective would be assigned to the case. But I prefer pursuing my own leads. The cops have enough to do without having to go after a little gutless thieving weenie.

    You might imagine that this crime is minor in the scheme of things what with serious presidential candidates discussing important subjects like hair color and the shapes of female faces. But here’s the thing: Civilization’s downward spiral begins small:

    First a small black metal cat is stolen from an unsecured corner. Then the lowdown stinky robber decides to steal morning newspapers from porches, despite the perp’s difficulty with reading. Next, an outdoor plant goes missing. Word of this crime wave gets out and spreads. Neighbors begin to worry. A neighborhood watch is formed. Armed locals can be seen marching up and down the street at night. The reputation of the neighborhood becomes seedy. Property taxes plummet. Panicked homeowners try to sell, but can’t because the word is out: This is the place metal kitties go missing. Are our local children next? The worth of the entire town slowly disintegrates. Eventually the town disappears and an unpopulated lunar-like landscape is left behind. Hollywood hears about it, makes a great movie titled “The Kitty Chronicles: Death of a Swedish Village,” and someone makes a ton of money from our collective loss.

    No one wants to be a victim especially when thoughtless buffoons leave pain or loss or a sense of invasion in their wake. Most people have been victimized in one way or another some time in their life and they’ve survived. A lot of stuff is overlooked in life as trivial, part of life’s ongoing,  annoying minutia. Then again, sometimes we should not ignore those who trespass against us. Sometimes we should stand up for truth, justice and the American way.

     Return the kitty you little creep! No questions asked. My mother will take over from there.