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As promised yesterday...this your story. Kitty within the panels. I can be humorous or I can be funny you say. It can be downright riotous; some say ridicule and sarcasm may be my rule of thumb. Whichever way you look at it, I think, I may be far closer to that of a prude. Nevertheless this story – joke - observation, call it whatever you may, I think I should share. I had just entered this office in downtown Lancaster PA, when it was brought to my attention that I was about a half an hour early. My curious eyes and ears both searched with eager intent, both to record for and to later recall, what I had both seen and heard. It was after the luncheon period and I guest some employees were still relishing the thought of an extended story telling period, when I heard the most incredible story. You may call it ‘cat tales’, but I would call it ‘Kitty within the panels’. As a matter of fact I toyed with calling the tale ‘Pussy in the middle’ (some people may not feel comfortable with this title – so much for poetic license), you would see why. So these three young interns were busy retelling various stories of the downright foolish or the practically improbable. When the loudest of them decided to related the most hilarious but wiry story about her family’s favorite Cat yes ‘Kitty’. As for all other kittens, this kitten must have been what you would call, hyperactive. For those of us who would have raised kittens as pets, you would know of what I speak. They would jump into boxes, slash at flaying thread, bite at, or given a chance poop in the heel of your shoes, or where you not attentive, you may even step full bore upon kitty’s flaying tail. Anyhow this intern; for they seemed like they all were, because seasoned office types would hardly ever be caught speak at the top of their lungs in an enclosed office environment, it seek that one would have learned that by mere association. Seasoned office types would always speak or answer with soft whispers and curious roving eyes, (this is standard office practice), but on the other hand would bellow, with raucous laughter when at the bar or some licentious gathering. Yes- so back to this intern, for that is what she must have been. So I am focusing my gaze and sharpening my ears, as the story begins to unfold, a few decibels above regular office tone, she begins to relate. It so happens that her family had just acquired a kitten as a family pet. At this same time the family had decided to do some interior renovations. This makes for an interesting mix; just imagine kitty going for and against plumb bobs, chasing paper ends and shadowing hammering hands. In an active environment such as this, ‘Kitty’ would be active, but ‘Kitty’ must as soon get quite tired. The story really begins when the carpenters would have stripped the walls of sheet rock and would have left them bear overnight with the hope of completing the task next day - but on time. It was during this period, so the story goes, that ‘Kitty’ would have found it worth his/her while to nestle deep within the sunken uprights of the stripped bare planks. This was so as to get his/her justifying, but comforting sleep. He/she must have been sleeping soundly, for the next morning workmen returned but without delay, went to work erecting new panels of sheet rock from flooring to roof, not stopping until they were complete. Of course at the end of the day, rooms would be cleaned, furniture reset, family reordered or so they thought. It was not until the second day that everyone noticed that there was a muted silence within the rebuilt chamber that they called home. The missing link was ‘Kitty’. So everyone was asked/ordered to go searching for ‘kitty’. The house was scored, the grounds were combed, just about everywhere was searched and the family resigned itself to the fact that ‘Kitty’ must have wandered off. ‘Kitty’ by this time had awakened, hungry, frightened perhaps and alone. Just as everyone had just about given up, there was a faint ‘meow’ coming from somewhere within the confines of the house. Children always have a keener sense of detection of sound and best yet, if is a treasured pet, trauma and lost can be decisive factors in driving a lost and found campaign. One ‘meow’ gave way to several other halting ‘meows’. By now all those in the household had become fixated with these faint but halting ‘meows’ emanating as they were, from within the newly erected sheet rock. Even ‘cat hating’ dad joined the rescue party to identify the precise location from which the faint sounds were emanating. Of course a lot of money was poured into the erecting of the new sheet rock and there was no eager desire on dad’s part to tear it down, not at least to rescue ‘Kitty’. Dad’s solution was to leave ‘kitty’ right where he/she was, safe and sound and perhaps out of site, but there was one problem, should he/she die, there would be the stink that would emanate from the putrefied mess and the suffocation would be followed by guilt and betrayal. The thought of such a decision, forced some action. The final solution; tear down the sheet rock, door frames and all and retrieve ‘Kitty.’ To the relief of all, out jumped ‘Kitty’ from his/her darkened but temporary tomb, to hugs and kisses from children and mom alike. But this was sullen relief from dad, knowing that his short lived solution would have cost him a fortune and some. For this, the love of ‘Kitty’ trumped expense and pride. It would seem that ‘Kitty’ after all meant much more to those who harbored not a grudge. But as soon as he/she was free ‘Kitty’ started frolicking again, jumping into boxes, slashing at flaying thread, biting at or pooping in the heel of any exposed shoe or even when stepped upon would give a growl and a gnash and begin again as though he/she was just - rather than be thought of as ‘Kitty within the panels’, would have like it to be thought of, more like ‘Pussy in the middle’. The story just told, is a true and within it, are some object lessons which I think should form the basis of how we look at the lives we lead and the impact that our actions and or inactions have upon those around us. It also demonstrates that love and caring, trumps posturing and pride. It also demonstrates that truth hidden would be sought by those who value its currency, no matter what is done or said to dissuade the desire of truth seekers. It also demonstrates that faults and failings are not the standards by which faith and belief should be judged. By daring and persistence, justified results are usually attained. Reluctance to find truth, does not true comfort bring, short term gain, certainly does not ensure continued happiness, unpopular decisions although costly, if done correctly with due care, love and much though, calms anxiety, sooths discomfort and heals hurt. Those of us who hide our faults are bound to be entrapped by the ‘comforts’ which may be apparent but imprisoning. I then do admonish – ‘Seek the truth and seek it now’. And with this I end- ‘Speak the truth and speak it ever, cost you what it will, he who hides the wrong he does, does the wrong thing still’. Author: Claudius Phillips. NB: Just sharing, to be entered in competition.
I would begin to tell some stories..see if you can relate,.look for the first true story tomorrow. I would try posting one every two days for the next month. The first one would be aptly titled 'Kitty in the middle' it is the story about a kitty cat trapped within the middle of the walls of a reconstructed house!! Yep, true story.
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