It's true. The cat that we all thought was dead--that, by all accounts, should be dead, is still among the living. Mom doesn't believe me, but I now have absolutely conclusive proof that the bedraggled beast that looked like it dragged itself in (ha!) is actually our own former druggie cat.
It occurred to me, after Pirate had walked by us Sunday night, that he had a couple of dreadlocks. And, it also occurred to me, I've seen something like that before . . . but where . . . I thought and thought, and then BAM! It occurred to me.
Dreadlocks? Check.
Coming back from the dead? Check.
Looking like dead? Check.
Or, rather, LeChuck.
That's right. Pirate now bears an uncanny resemblance to the ghost pirate (coincidence? I think not) LeChuck from the Monkey Island games.
So be excited, because coming home for Christmas is going to mean that you get to see LePirate once again.
(I wouldn't get too close, however; LePirate not only looks like death, pre-warming over, and likely carries the plague and/or leprosy, but he looked at me pretty much the same way LeChuck is looking at that doll of Guybrush.)
3 comments:
I'm not surprised he looked at you like that. You were the reason that he had to move outside.
Oh, I'm SO sorry if my continued existence got in the way of your cat's comfort.
All I'm saying is that I don't blame him for giving you a dirty look. Or for sticking your voodoo doll full of pins.
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