The Christmas Cat Tails

by Peter Scottsdale

  “Oh, can I get a Tuxedo Cat? Please, please, please. They’re so cute, and they look like they have a tuxedo suit on. Please,” Chelsey said, drawing out the last “please” into one long word.

  They both looked at their child and smiled.

  “If they have a Tuxedo Cat,” Ken said.

  “They might have one,” Darla said. “With your dad working evenings, we’ll be able to go tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Aww, can we go now?”

  “They’re not open Sundays. We’ll go tomorrow. Can you wait that long?” Ken said.

  “If I have to.” Chelsey pouted.

  “Okay, we’ll go tomorrow. So don’t go anywhere tomorrow if you want a cat.”

  “Can Sue come over tomorrow then?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll go call her,” Chelsey said and left the kitchen. “I’m getting a cat. I’m getting a Tuxedo Cat.”

  Her parents laughed. Darla turned to her husband. “Now, how are we gonna surprise her?”

  - 2 -

  The next afternoon Chelsey and Sue were playing with her stuffies in Chelsey’s bedroom and talking cats. Sue had a “regular old Tabby” named Stripes that she adored. She loved to pick up Stripes and cuddle with him and kiss him over and over.

  “He loves to be loved,” Sue said.

  “I want my new cat to be like that. We had an orange cat named Red. He was my dad’s, but I’m gonna have my very own cat. A Tuxedo Cat.”

  “What are you going to call him?”

  “I don’t know, yet.”

  “How about Mr. Tuxedo?”

  “Nah. I want something…something…I don’t know. Something about his color. He’ll be black and white.”

  “How ‘bout Zebra? They’re black and white.”

  “He won’t have stripes. Zebras have stripes. He’ll look like he has a tuxedo suit on. I know ‘Suits.’ I’ll name him Suits. And he’ll be really, really cute.”

  “You know what my mom makes me do? Clean the cat box. It’s so gross. Sometimes I don’t do it. And it stinks, and my mom gets mad, and then I have to clean it more. But I love Stripes. He’s so soft. He likes to play with a feather on a string. And it’s got a stick on it too so you can move it around. He hits it with his paws and bites the feathers.” Sue laughed and Chelsey joined her.

  “What are you two laughing about?” Darla asked after opening Chelsey’s bedroom door.

  “Sue’s cat.”

  “My cat.”

  “Well, it’s time to go to the SPCA. Your dad’s ready,” Darla said.

  “Can Sue come?”

  “No, dear. We’ll drive Sue home before we go.”

  “Awww,” came out of Sue and Chelsey’s mouths.

  “Come on, girls. Time to go.”

  “I’m getting a new kitty.”

  - 3 -

  After dropping Sue off at her home, Ken, Darla, and Chelsey Ashton drove across Langston Falls to the local SPCA. Chelsey never stopped talking about her new feline that she didn’t have yet.

  They arrived at the SPCA, and Ken parked their Toyota Camry. Chelsey jumped out of the car and ran to the SPCA entrance. In she went and up to the counter.

  “We want a Tuxedo Cat,” she said to the large woman behind the counter before the woman could ask the excited little girl, “May I help you?”

  Ken and Darla entered the building in time to hear the woman tell Chelsey, “We have two Tuxedo Cats up for adoption. If you’re the right person for them. Are you her parents?”

  “Yes, we are,” Darla said.

  “Ok, I’m Andrea, and there’s an application that needs to be filled out after you pick out your cat, or rather, after he picks you out.”

  Ken and Darla chuckled. “What’s so funny,” Chelsey asked.

  “Can they pick out a cat –“

  “A Tuxedo Cat,” Chelsey said, and Darla shushed her.

  “—while I fill out the forms?” Ken asked.

  “Sure,” Andrea said. “There are four rooms with cats in cages with one cat in each room allowed out their cage at a time. So go ahead and check out our kitties. Each cat has a note on their cage with their names and some info.”

  “Ok, thanks,” said Darla. “Let’s start here.” Across from the counter, Darla opened the door to room one. Chelsey and Darla went inside and shut the door.

  Ken turned to Andrea and said,” If she picks out a cat – probably a Tuxedo –“

  “I gathered that.”

  “Yea, when can we bring him home?”

  “There is a 24 hour grace period from being approved for adoption and paying the adoption fee before you can pick up your new friend.”

  “Can we extend that grace period to Christmas Eve?”

  “The cat’s a gift?”

  “Yea, we wanted her to pick one out and then surprise her Christmas Eve. So if we could leave him here until – what time do you close on the 24th?

  “Five p.m.”

  “That’ll work. Can I pick him up just before close on Christmas Eve?”

  “I think we can do that, but there might be a fee to house him a few days.”

  “That’s fine,” Ken said and picked up the clipboard and form and filled it out.

  - 4 -

  In the first room of adoptable cats, Chelsey and her mother found a Tabby named Rex. A friendly fellow but not a Tuxedo Cat. Tanzy, a Tortie-Tabby with bright white fur across her face, neck and chest, was not so friendly as she opened her mouth in warning as if to bite if Darla petted her again. And an older white Persian had a note on her cage that said she was there too long. Darla knew what that meant but didn’t want her daughter to know that that cat was going to be euthanized soon. They moved onto the next room.

  There they found a Tuxedo Cat with a medium length coat among another Tabby and a Siamese, who was out of his cage.

  “How about this one?” Chelsey asked her mother. “His name’s Boots, but I’ll call him ‘Suits.’”

  Boots was lying on a carpeted shelf in his cage. He looked out at the two humans looking in at him. He had white whiskers on a black and white face.

  “He’s so cute,” Chelsey said and stuck her fingers into the cage. Boots sniffed her and rubbed his face against her fingers. Darla put the Siamese in his cage and took out Boots for Chelsey to hold. Chelsey held him, and Boots fit nicely into her arms. He purred. The card on the cage said he was four years old. Chelsey pulled him close.

  “Can we get him, mom?”

  “Maybe, let’s see the other cats first.”

  “He’s the one. I know it.”

  “Okay, put him back, and we’ll go to the next room.”

  “But what if somebody takes him before we can?”

  “It’ll be okay, Sweetheart. There’s nobody else looking at cats right now.”

  Chelsey put Boots back in his cage, and they left that room and went into the next where they found an aww-dorable Tuxie. He was out of his cage and playing with a toy mouse. Chelsey laughed and got down on her knees to watch him. Darla checked out his note.

  It said his name is Capone, and he’s nine months old, a fixed male and front paws declawed. Darla liked that he was declawed that meant less of a chance of her daughter getting scratched. It also meant he would have to be an indoor cat. Without his claws, he has no way to protect himself from dogs, other cats and wild animals.

  Chelsey reached out and scratched Capone behind the ears and around the neck, and he pushed into her hand. Capone was mostly black. He had white whiskers like Boots, white paws with black toes, a white design on his chest and belly, a black face with white down his chin and neck and a milk moustache.

  Chelsey stood up and asked her mom, “I can’t decide. What do you think?” But before Darla could answer, Capone jumped into Chelsey’s arms and rubbed her face with his. This surprised and delighted both mother and daughter.

  “He’s the one! He’s the one! Can I get him? Please, please, please.”

  “Okay.” Darla smiled. She liked
Capone too.

  - 5 -

  Darla and Chelsey came out of the third cat room, grinning and joined Ken at the counter. He had finished filling out the paperwork.

  “I take it you found a puss,” Ken said, looking at their smiles.

  “Capone! Capone!”

  “Yea, he’s one cute kitty,” said the big woman behind the counter. “But you can’t take him today.”

  “Aww,” said Chelsey.

  “Maybe in a few days – after Christmas,” Ken said. “They have to approve our adoption request.”

  “But what if someone takes him?” Chelsey said with some panic in her voice.

  “Don’t worry,” said Andrea, “we’ll keep him for you if we approve the adoption.”

  “Okay,” Chelsey said resigned she wasn’t getting Capone that day.

  “Alright, let’s go,” said Darla. The Ashton family turned and headed out the door. Ken turned around and gave two thumbs up to the big lady and mouthed, “Thank you.” And he was gone.

  Chapter Two

  - 1 -

  Ken arrived at the Langston Falls SPCA at about 4:30 p.m. Christmas Eve. They were closing in a half an hour to get home early for the holidays.

  When Ken walked in, the same large lady behind the counter said, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Ken said, smiling. “I’m here to pick up Capone. Is he still here?”

  “Yes, he is. Oh good, you brought a cat carrier.”

  Ken put Red’s old beige carrier on the counter. “Chelsey’s gonna be so excited.”

  “Are you ready for your new friend? A litter box and food?”

  “We had a cat before so we still have his old litter box, and we bought some Meow Mix yesterday.”

  “Good, I’ll go get him,” Andrea said. Taking the cat carrier, she went into room three. She returned shortly with Capone in the carrier. He meowed. She put the carrier on the counter and checked Ken’s paperwork. Everything was paid up and filled out. The adoption fees were cheaper because Capone was fixed before he came into the shelter.

  “Okay, you can take him home. He’s such a cute kitty.”

  “Chelsey keeps asking about him,” Ken said and picked up the carrier while peaking inside. “Let’s get you home, Capone.” Ken smiled and said to Andrea, “Thank you and Merry Christmas.”

  And then Ken and Capone left the SPCA. Ken, a happy guy – Capone, a frightened kitty.

  - 2 -

  When Ken got to his car, he unlocked and opened the passenger door. He placed the carrier on the front passenger seat and arranged the seat belt around it so it wouldn’t move and clicked the seat belt socket into place. He pulled on the belt and was satisfied it would keep Capone safe if he had to hit the brakes hard on the way home.

  “There you go, pussycat. All belted in.”

  Capone started meowing. Ken closed the door and went around to the driver’s side of the car, got in, and belted himself in. He put the key in the ignition and started the vehicle. After putting the car in gear, he drove away.

  Christmas carols played on the radio. Ken liked the oldies station for the mix of classic hits and Christmas ones. Hall and Oates, one of Ken’s favorites, came over the radio with their version of “Jingle Bell Rock.”

  “Alright, some good music for us, Capone.” Ken stuck his finger between the bars of the carrier’s gate, touching the new kitty’s fur. And Capone meowed some more.

  Ken drove across town and slowly into the downtown core where the city had erected Christmas lights and displays. The sun was down, and the street was busy with last minute shoppers. But Ken knew he had the best gift of all.

  He looked out his windshield at all the Christmas lights and décor, allowing them to dazzle his eyes. Red and green and blue. Candy canes, wreaths, and a Santa’s beard. Ken smiled.

  “Look at all the lights, Capone.” More meowing.

  After getting a good look at the lights, Ken decided it was time to get home. He left downtown Langston Falls, driving under the railway bridge and taking a right at the Tim Horton’s donut shop onto Maple Avenue past the Corona Tavern where he used to DJ on Friday nights. Ken and Capone went over the overpass and found the police on the other side, lights flashing.

  Three cop cars blocked off the left and right turn lanes, leaving one lane to drive through. Several cars were stopped in front of Ken. He pulled up and stopped behind a dirty white Chevy. He saw a “Check Stop” sign and was glad he didn’t drink and drive anymore.

  Before he met Darla, Ken partied as a young man. Drinking a lot and driving when he felt like it. He considered himself lucky he didn’t cause any accidents or get caught being over the limit. One night, he didn’t remember driving home. Those days were over, and he was glad.

  The three vehicles ahead of him were allowed through, and Ken pulled up to a cop who signaled him to stop. Stopping, Ken rolled down his window and turned down the radio. The policeman walked up to him.

  “Evening, sir,” the cop said. “Langston Falls Check Stop. Have you had any alcohol tonight?”

  “Nope,” said Ken.

  “Any alcohol in the vehicle?” The cop shined his flashlight into the car and took a look.

  “Nope.”

  Capone had stopped meowing.

  “Have a good night,” the cop said and waved Ken through.

  Ken slowly drove twenty feet to the next intersection and stopped at the red light. He turned to Capone. “How are you doing in there, kitty-cat?” It was dark, but Ken could see Capone’s milk moustache. The light turned green. Ken took his foot off the brake and pressed the gas, pulling into the intersection.

  A blue SUV came through the red light and struck the driver’s side of Ken’s Camry - t-boned it - crumpling the driver’s door. The SUV’s bumper shattered the driver’s window and pushed inward. The airbags burst open but were not enough to stop that bumper from striking Ken’s head. The left side of Ken’s head was crushed inward two inches. Instant death.

  The Camry drifted to the right and came to a stop against the curb. The driver of the SUV was saved by her seatbelt and airbag. Capone was thrown around inside the carrier. Because Ken had belted him in, Capone was more frightened then before but unhurt.

  The policemen dropped everything and ran toward the accident with one of them calling an ambulance. One ran to Ken’s car, and another to the SUV.

  At the SUV, the cop opened the driver’s door and checked on the woman inside. She was leaning back in her seat. A deflated airbag hung down from the steering wheel. She was alone. He smelled alcohol. A heavy stench. The 22 year old woman bled from a gash on her head that would need stitches but otherwise was not hurt.

  An ambulance arrived within a few minutes. The paramedics got out and assessed the scene. Ken Ashton was pronounced dead, and the drunk woman was taken to the hospital. The police found Ken’s address on his driver’s license and were not looking forward to what they had to do next.

  Chapter Three

  - 1 -

  At four o’clock, Chelsey got home from visiting with Sue, and Darla suggested they start decorating the house for Christmas. Traditionally, the Ashton clan would decorate after supper Christmas Eve, but Darla knew when Capone got here, Chelsey wouldn’t want to decorate anything. She would just play with Capone.

  They went into the basement and brought up the big cardboard box of Christmas decorations and the fake tree they used every year. Mother and daughter opened the box and found what they left last year.

  Inside were boxes of lights not put away properly, a wreath, and plastic holly, ornaments of green, red, gold, silver, and blue and one special ornament with Chelsey’s birthdate of “September 14” on it. Those old decorations seemed new every Christmas.

  The tree - old and beaten up – was put up first. It had been with Ken and Darla since their first Christmas together twelve years before. The two girls hung tinsel, lights, and ornaments on the branches.

  “Don’t put any decorations on the bottom branc
hes,” Darla said, knowing cats love to play with ornaments.

  “Why not?” Chelsey asked and placed tinsel on the tree.

  “It looks better up higher.”

  “Okay,” Chelsey said and moved a lower glass ball to a middle branch.

  The two Ashton girls finished decorating the tree and hung up star decorations from the ceiling. They were done in about an hour, and Darla started wondering where her husband was. It was almost dinnertime. Maybe he had trouble with Capone. She hoped he got Capone or it would ruin the surprise. She decided to make supper.

  Ken will be home soon, she thought.

  Darla took the spaghetti sauce she made the night before out of the fridge and placed it on the stove. She turned the heat to medium and took out a large pot to boil the spaghetti. Supper was ready twenty minutes later and still Ken wasn’t home. She didn’t know if she should be angry or worried. Where could he be?

  Darla came into the living room and found Chelsey watching “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” on television.

  “Supper time,” Darla told her daughter.

  “Goody. I’m hungry. Where’s Dad?”

  “He must be running late.” Darla hoped she was right.

  They ate the spaghetti – a family favorite. When Darla finished her dinner, she made a plate for Ken and put it in the fridge, and they washed and dried the dishes. Then they heard a knock on the front door.

  - 2 -

  Darla answered the door, and Chelsey stood behind her, looking around her to see who it was. Two uniformed police officers – a man and a woman - were at the door. When Darla saw them, she knew something was wrong. Chelsey didn’t. Darla gasped.

  “Mrs. Ashton?” one of them said.

  “Yes.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “I am sorry to inform you that Ken Ashton was killed in a car accident this evening. I’m sorry for your loss,” the policewoman said.

  ”Oh, God. Oh, God. Ken.” The tears that had welled up were now running down her face.