Punkin's Last Stand

Punkin was the world's meanest cat. She hated everybody, and this only got worse as she got older. She was an alley cat who kind of adopted us and slept in a box in our garage. One Chicago winter night, Grandpa came home from work and saw her in the little cold box. Being a big softie, he brought her into the house "because it was so cold," and she stayed forever. This was when we lived at 59th & Lawndale. Punkin later moved with Grandma and Grandpa to the house on Millard Ave. Punkin only liked one person at a time. She was my cat from 2nd grade till I went to college, then she kind of decided that she liked Uncle Jim and became his cat. She kind of knew when you needed a cat and when you needed to be left alone.  As she got older, she started to age. Her eyesight started to go, and I think she had some arthritis because she had a hard time moving around. Her hair got all clumpy and she kinda smelled.  So one day, this mean and ugly cat was relaxing on a kitchen chair at Grandma's house on Millard Ave. when Sid, the young german sheperd saw her there. Now Sid wasn't very bright. Grandpa Tolley brought him home from the police department because Sid couldn't cut it as a police dog. (They say he had bad hips, but I think there might have beeen a little bit more to it than that.)  Sid comes bounding into the room, as was his style. Seeing Punkin on the chair, I guess he figured he would say hello, maybe play a bit. Because Sid's head was at chair level, it was easy for him to poke Punkin with his nose. That was a mistake. Punkin clawed Sid's nose, and in the process, got her claw stuck in his nose. Poor Sid was yelping and backing away, with a spitting cat stuck to his nose.  Punkin picked that moment to die. The spitting stopped and she became a deadweight on the dog's nose. Everything got worked out, and Uncle Jim gave Punkin the grand funeral that she deserved. He buried her in a beer carton at Sundown Meadows, a popular lake for parties.