Fuzzy Tummy of Doom
Yes, I understand that cats are predators and natural hunters. But some cats are more skilled than others, and some cats get a particularly wacko "kill kill kill" look in their eyes, while other cats are content to stick out a paw to pin down an almost dead house fly every few months. The former is my cat. His name is Frodo, but don't let the cute name fool you.
At my old house, he and his bad influence friend, Goldie, from across the street wiped out the feral bunny population in the neighborhood. Once, the neighbor kids found a dead bunny, and to comfort them, my former roommate held a funeral service. She asked if any of the kids would like to say anything about the passing of this cute, furry thing, and Suzie, the youngest girl expressed her feelings most accurately by simply saying, "I hate Goldie."
Frodo also once treed a raccoon at our old place. It's his distinct lack of fear that gives me the most fear.
So now we're at my new place. And for the first few months, I thought, alright, these Burbank birds are much smarter and wilier, because none of them have turned up dead on my front step.
But then, the lizards started to appear. Tail-less lizards. I believe tearing a body part off another creature counts as mayhem. So here: Count number one. Sometimes I would find the lizards still alive and rescue them to grow another tail another day. But sometimes not. At this point, though, still no birds.
That soon began to change. At first, there was still no obvious evidence. Just the circumstantial evidence that, every time I let Frodo outside, a bird would fly down to the eave of my roof and yell at him. So I figured, hm, he must have done something wrong. I know it's hearsay, and I know I'm like that guy who was with me on a jury panel once who had the sure fire, get out of jury duty free line, "I figure the guy must have done something wrong, or he wouldn't be here."
But then, evidence, just feathers at first and then cat with bird in mouth wanting to come into the house at 4am. Second count: murder.
And now for the third count. Frodo is a cat who likes to come in and go out many, many times between the hours of 4 and 7am. Of course, I attempted to sleep through his pleas to come back in once he has been chucked out, but he soon figured out that he could get the screen door to bang loudly against the door until I let him in. Then, clever me, I started propping the screen door open. No banging, and I could get back to sleep. But then, one night, I left the window open. Frodo got chucked out at around 4, but then was suddenly pouncing on my bed at 7. What the--? I got up, and sure enough, he had pried open a corner of the screen and climbed in through the window. Count three: breaking and entering.
Not much to do about the screen, except to look into getting a cat door. But then came the night, now known as the "the last straw." Frodo, as usual got chucked out at 4 am. I heard him crying to come in again around 4:30, and when I heard him go for the screen, I got up to let him in. Only to find, on the front step, actual guts, entrails, identifiable intestines, and part of a snout. Maybe a rat, I don't know. Ew! I know! But it's 4:30! So I let the cat in. Now it's 5 and he's messing around with stuff he shouldn't be messing with, so I chuck him out again. And close the window, so he won't be tempted to burglary.
Hours pass, and I get up at 7, and go to the door to let the cat in, and the front of my house looks like a crime scene. Blood and guts on the front step, and the screen torn completely off the window. So now it's clear, we named Frodo after the wrong ring bearer. Surely he should have been named after the one who likes his food "raw and wriggling."
But that was it, I went to work and promptly got online to order the "cat bib". This ingenious looking device that hooks onto a cat's collar and greatly inhibits their ability to kill. You know, in lieu of a concscience. I anticipate that the other cats will tease him mercilessly, but that's unfortunately his cross to bear for having a Buddhist for a guardian, because, yes, I'm concerned for his karma. There's not much I can do about it - and that's why Buddha said, It's easier for a human to attain enlightenment than for an animal to attain a human rebirth. (So what's taking you so long? And, again, by "you" I mean, "me.")
Also, the "Wheel of Life" which pretty much sums up all of Buddha's teachings and the nature of life and death in visual form, the entire wheel of life is held in the jaws of "Yama, the Lord of Death" because all living beings have to pass through the jaws of death. And Yama, if you ask me, looks like a cat. I don't think that's a coincidence. Many creatures have passed through Frodo's jaws.
That's his negative karma ripening as a creature who can't help but kill. He also has many good qualities: he's very friendly and outgoing, so he was probably a people person; he's cute and everyone (who isn't prey) loves him - so he must have been very patient; and he has very good living conditions: lots of food, bed to sleep on, warm dry house - so he was also very generous. I imagine he was something like an Italian grocer. Very kind and outgoing, and treated all of his customers like friends, and was always giving away food and donating money to local organzations and helping people out who had fallen on hard times. But who was maybe also a ladies man who cheated on his wife once or twice.
So, really, the least I can do is get him a cat bib, maybe help out his karma a little bit.
Yes, I understand that cats are predators and natural hunters. But some cats are more skilled than others, and some cats get a particularly wacko "kill kill kill" look in their eyes, while other cats are content to stick out a paw to pin down an almost dead house fly every few months. The former is my cat. His name is Frodo, but don't let the cute name fool you.
At my old house, he and his bad influence friend, Goldie, from across the street wiped out the feral bunny population in the neighborhood. Once, the neighbor kids found a dead bunny, and to comfort them, my former roommate held a funeral service. She asked if any of the kids would like to say anything about the passing of this cute, furry thing, and Suzie, the youngest girl expressed her feelings most accurately by simply saying, "I hate Goldie."
Frodo also once treed a raccoon at our old place. It's his distinct lack of fear that gives me the most fear.
So now we're at my new place. And for the first few months, I thought, alright, these Burbank birds are much smarter and wilier, because none of them have turned up dead on my front step.
But then, the lizards started to appear. Tail-less lizards. I believe tearing a body part off another creature counts as mayhem. So here: Count number one. Sometimes I would find the lizards still alive and rescue them to grow another tail another day. But sometimes not. At this point, though, still no birds.
That soon began to change. At first, there was still no obvious evidence. Just the circumstantial evidence that, every time I let Frodo outside, a bird would fly down to the eave of my roof and yell at him. So I figured, hm, he must have done something wrong. I know it's hearsay, and I know I'm like that guy who was with me on a jury panel once who had the sure fire, get out of jury duty free line, "I figure the guy must have done something wrong, or he wouldn't be here."
But then, evidence, just feathers at first and then cat with bird in mouth wanting to come into the house at 4am. Second count: murder.
And now for the third count. Frodo is a cat who likes to come in and go out many, many times between the hours of 4 and 7am. Of course, I attempted to sleep through his pleas to come back in once he has been chucked out, but he soon figured out that he could get the screen door to bang loudly against the door until I let him in. Then, clever me, I started propping the screen door open. No banging, and I could get back to sleep. But then, one night, I left the window open. Frodo got chucked out at around 4, but then was suddenly pouncing on my bed at 7. What the--? I got up, and sure enough, he had pried open a corner of the screen and climbed in through the window. Count three: breaking and entering.
Not much to do about the screen, except to look into getting a cat door. But then came the night, now known as the "the last straw." Frodo, as usual got chucked out at 4 am. I heard him crying to come in again around 4:30, and when I heard him go for the screen, I got up to let him in. Only to find, on the front step, actual guts, entrails, identifiable intestines, and part of a snout. Maybe a rat, I don't know. Ew! I know! But it's 4:30! So I let the cat in. Now it's 5 and he's messing around with stuff he shouldn't be messing with, so I chuck him out again. And close the window, so he won't be tempted to burglary.
Hours pass, and I get up at 7, and go to the door to let the cat in, and the front of my house looks like a crime scene. Blood and guts on the front step, and the screen torn completely off the window. So now it's clear, we named Frodo after the wrong ring bearer. Surely he should have been named after the one who likes his food "raw and wriggling."
But that was it, I went to work and promptly got online to order the "cat bib". This ingenious looking device that hooks onto a cat's collar and greatly inhibits their ability to kill. You know, in lieu of a concscience. I anticipate that the other cats will tease him mercilessly, but that's unfortunately his cross to bear for having a Buddhist for a guardian, because, yes, I'm concerned for his karma. There's not much I can do about it - and that's why Buddha said, It's easier for a human to attain enlightenment than for an animal to attain a human rebirth. (So what's taking you so long? And, again, by "you" I mean, "me.")
Also, the "Wheel of Life" which pretty much sums up all of Buddha's teachings and the nature of life and death in visual form, the entire wheel of life is held in the jaws of "Yama, the Lord of Death" because all living beings have to pass through the jaws of death. And Yama, if you ask me, looks like a cat. I don't think that's a coincidence. Many creatures have passed through Frodo's jaws.
That's his negative karma ripening as a creature who can't help but kill. He also has many good qualities: he's very friendly and outgoing, so he was probably a people person; he's cute and everyone (who isn't prey) loves him - so he must have been very patient; and he has very good living conditions: lots of food, bed to sleep on, warm dry house - so he was also very generous. I imagine he was something like an Italian grocer. Very kind and outgoing, and treated all of his customers like friends, and was always giving away food and donating money to local organzations and helping people out who had fallen on hard times. But who was maybe also a ladies man who cheated on his wife once or twice.
So, really, the least I can do is get him a cat bib, maybe help out his karma a little bit.
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