Tuesday, August 15, 2006

I don't remember exactly how it went, but there used to be a joke that asked what Thom McAn and the US Postal Service had in common, and the answer was thousands of loafers.

There was a nasty rumor (which was confirmed for me later when one of the parties told me the story) about a terrible but funny mishap involving one portly couple who were both employed at the Dallas BMC.

He was a great wit, actually, as I got to know him when we worked in the same area some years after this story took place. By the time I met him, he'd divorced his wife, carried on rearing their son, and she'd picked up a hitchhiker whom she married. Later S would tell me that he searched and searched until he found a woman with absolutely no redeeming qualities, and married her.

Anyway, the story was there was an orphaned kitten was hanging around the parking lot for days and days, and people would toss it little bits of food as they went to/from their cars at shift change.

S & his wife took pity upon the poor little thing and took it home. Mr. and Mrs. S were both apparently quite the rotund pair at the time, and, unwisely, allowed the kitten to sleep with them that evening.

Alas, they awakened to find sometime in the night the kitten had suffocated under their combined girth.

What amazes me about this story is merely the fact that they breathed a word of the sad outcome to anyone. I mean, think about what a struggle a suffocating animal would put up, and consider how much pudge you'd have to be sporting to not notice an animal beneath your dunlap in the throes of a mortal struggle.

Anyway, you know how exciteable I am and how I am bad to overshare, but hell, that's one I'd take to the grave with me. Oh, and a loose-lipped spouse would be justifiably relieved of the burden of his entrails for blabbing. But that's just me.


Dick said...

And people wonder why I toss out Fattie Fridays.
It amazes me that folks let this happen to themselves.
Poor kitty.

Becky said...

Yeah, I think I would've kept that story to myself. I had a chihuahua with my Ex and she slept in our bed, and I was always worried one of us would crush or or kick her by accident, and I don't think either one of us could be called "rotund."

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Yes, that would be immediately buried in the deepest unretrievable recesses of my subconscience. Did they at least make an effort to lose some weight after that?

Maven said...

Try this link on for size:

There's a Gary Larson cartoon out there somewhere, which is the same thing... a woman putting up "Lost Puppy" posters, only to have the dog wedged between the cheeks of her ass.

My sister and I sometimes laugh that one of our dad's dogs will suffer that very fate.

FHB said...

You know, that doesn't sound like it's possible. Those things have claws, and every stray cat I've brought home spent the first month under the furniture. Urban myth. Taggin' it.

phlegmfatale said...

big dick - who knows? Maybe the kitty was better off dead than living with them?

becky - people don't think about how fragile a wee little thing can be like that

barbara - he was slender when i worked with him, apparently he was miserable, inactive and ate all the time when they were married

nuggetmaven - *L* That is funny, and terrible. if your pop's dog buys the farm in that way, you must promise me to get photos!
athairybastard - You're such a cynic!

nongirlfriend said...

I think those fat fuckers need to be force-fed until they extinguish themselves. Poor poor kitty.

But then, I always root for the animal over the human!

phlegmfatale said...

nongirlfriend - understandable