LOVE IS A MANY-SPLINTERED THING
I had just returned from my lawyer’s office. Berkel was sprawled out on a just-purchased corrugated scratchboard. Earlier, I had sprinkled catniped Jellybeans on the surface, according to the directions, and he was out like a light when I arrived back home.
Recently, I had read about a man who died and had left instructions to have his dog buried with him. The man said he loved his dog so much he didn’t want to leave this world without him. Because I also have great affection for my cat, I just had my will revised so that Berkel would be buried with me when the grim reaper arrives, and thought it best to break the good news to him as soon as possible.
“Wake up, Berkel, I must discuss a serious matter with you. No response. “I said I must have a talk with you concerning a subject of great importance.” No response. “I hear that fresh tuna is on sale again this week! I screamed.
Berkel jumped to his feet. “If this is one of your devious ploys to get my attention, don’t say another word, or I’ll dig my claws into your new waterbed tonight, let’s say around three a.m.
Berkel, it’s really true that tuna is on sale again, but because I love you so much, I have just changed my will to make it possible for us to take that glorious ride to heaven together when we die!
Berkel looked extremely purr-plexed. “Glorious ride where?
I bent down and tweaked his little pussy nose. “To heaven, of course. We will both go through those pearly gates — and you and I will spend all eternity with each other!”
“Hold the phone, dummy! I still have eight lives left, so find another cat with nothing to live for. I ain’t ready for that ‘glorious ride to heaven’ as you put it, nor do I have a burning desire to enter any pearly gates, either. So count me out!” cried Berkel.
“But I thought you loved me too, Berkel. It’s a perfect way for you to show me how much you love me. Don’t you get it? I exclaimed.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that being buried alive is one of the most heinous crimes ever committed in history? And you call that love, you brainless clump of doo-doo!” Berkel shouted.
“Well, I’d have to arrange to put you to sleep first, of course. But it would be a completely painless process,” I said convincingly.
“Put me to sleep?
“Oh yes, you wouldn’t feel a thing. Do you think I’m some sort of barbarian?”
“You mean to have me killed, you birdbrain! Is this what you call love! And pray tell? In the coffin, do I get placed in your arms, on your lap, or at your feet”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you. We are being cremated.”
“Cremated!”
“Oh yes. Our combined ashes shall be sprinkled by helicopter over Weehawken, New Jersey. Did I ever happen to tell you that my great grandfather Wilfred Weehawken was inventor of the Magical Chef Carrot Slicer and Dicer?”
Berkel looked flummoxed. “I really don’t see a need for you to go through this great expense on my account.”
“Oh, on the contrary” I said, “It’s quite inexpensive when you call well in advance.”
“Did I ever tell you that I burn very easily?” Berkel explained.
“No. But that would seem to be a moot argument when someone is being placed in a hot, roaring furnace,” I emphasized.
“I don’t really want to put a monkey wrench into your well laid out plans, Hannibal, but I think I’m going to take a rain check on the cremation thing. And, as to the ‘love you’ part, from now on let’s just refer to our relationship as cautiously friendly, and in this way you can burn in hell as far as I’m concerned!” declared Berkel.
I was completely aghast. “I love you to death, Berkel! Heaven could never be heaven without you, Berkel! I’m giving you my deepest, truest love!”
“Truest love? You wouldn’t know truest love if it came along and bit you on your oversized butt!” shouted Berkel.
Well, that remark hurt me so deeply that I cancelled the cremation arrangement and lost the deposit. With Berkel’s reluctance to cooperate, it became necessary to rethink the entire scenario as to how I will meet my maker. A week later, I approached Berkel with a new and ingenious idea. For years, I have been morbidly fascinated with cryopreservation. Maybe Berkel would be more open to being frozen than being burned? We could both wake up in 50 years when all diseases have disappeared from earth.
“I have found the solution, Berkel. You’re going to love this idea. We are going to be fresh-frozen!”
For some reason, Berkle was noticeably irritated. “Can’t you see I’m watching the History Channel? Isn’t it fascinating how the Egyptians were so adept at mummification?”
“Well, if you think mummification is so great, wait until I tell you about cryonics where you are completely frozen and then awakened 50 years later in a disease-free world!”
“ Oh! So what you are saying is that you’re giving me a choice of being either burnt to a crisp, or being frozen stiff as a board, just so you can have company in heaven?
“Exactly! Now you have the idea!”
Berkel gave me some contorted look I’ve never seen before and said, “I really can’t thank you enough for your concern, bonehead, but I prefer to live out the seven lives still coming to me, and letting nature take its course. Get it?”
“But the thought of leaving you alone in this treacherous world without me hurts me so,” I sputtered.
“You’ll get over it!”
That night, for some reason, my waterbed sprung a terrible leak around 4 a.m. I never brought up the subject of dying again.
Copyright 2008 © Jon Frangipane Revised 2015