Winged Revenge

Vinny Blackwhisker and our church cat have been at odds for a long time. According to Tom, he's ugly and has a reputation to match.

Hello, Friends--

My Lenten Mea Culpa of the Week: I plotted against someone possibly causing them harm. How could I do such a thing? With a little help from my friends...

You see, cats like all winged creatures. Not only am I crazy about birds, but I also like nuns whose habits flutter like wings, angels, and gargoyles that look like they're about to spit fire and fly at the same time. My favorite angels are cherubs. You know, the chubby ones with little wings and no clothes. But, they make trouble. I've seen them. They also talk to me. Recently, one stopped by the windowsill.

"What's a nice cat like you doing in a place like this?" he asked.

It's frightening because these little guys have older voices, articulate and un-baby-like.

"Not a whole lot," I replied. "Been busy lately?"

"Oh, yeah." He couldn't wait to tell me. His little body quivering with excitement as he folded his wings and got comfortable.

"I've been up the street at a parishioner's house."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. You know the one next door to the rest home where the old men sit on the porch in the summertime and swat flies," he added.

"I know the one," I said.

"Well, I did a naughty thing."

"No!" I tried to express the appropriate shock. "What did you do?"

"I let their cat out."

"I didn't know they had a cat."

"The Evanses have had cats forever," he explained.

I had forgotten that this little fellow was around long before Temptation Parish was even a twinkle in the eye of the Diocese. I was anxious to hear more.

"So, you let the cat out. So what?"

"He fights."

"He does?"

"Yeah. He's a mean--you know, has one ear chewed down, looks like fur on toxic Brylcreem." 

"Wow." This was making me a little concerned. "In that case, he could really hurt somebody and it would be all your fault, you know."

The angel looked contrite. But only for a moment. He then looked at me, another mischievous grin on his face, an up-to-no-good sort of grin and said, "He's headed over to Vinny's."

"Really."

"Really," the angel repeated.

I paused. I could feel a smile spreading over my whiskers, making them twitch. "Can I get you some tea?"

"Why, yes," the cherub replied. "That would be lovely."