nickle-baby

while we're still on the subjects of cats...

my mom told me this story and she still swears by it:

when i was a baby, probably about oh two years old, my mom took me to the park one afternoon. there i was, walking my baby walk, all by myself, when a black cat crossed my way. i pointed at it and squealed with delight, "ehh! cat!"

the animal stared at me for some time, and then ran away.

immediately after that, the story goes, i went silent. i didn't say anything, i didn't cry; not even a word, not even a whimper. i was just stoned-quiet, that my mom got worried. i wasn't ill, at least not physically, and so she took me to a local witchdoctor.

the witchdoctor examined me, and then proclaimed that there was a spirit of a cat in possession of my soul. my mom was then told to leave me with the witchdoctor for a few days, for exorcism purposes.

okay, said my mom.
but the baby has to become mine first, said the witchdoctor.
at this point, i gather, my mom was scratching her head.
how?, asked my mom.
sell him to me, said the blackmagik lady.
how much?
um, five cent.
SOLD!

a few days later, i was back into my mother's arms, all well and dandy.

so, this is me - the five-cent baby, with a dead cat in my body. perhaps this explains why i can't recall any memories before i was three. and perhaps this is why, or so i've been told, that i am good with cats, that they easily warm up to me, even the ones who always shy away from strangers. people often wonder why, and i wish i could tell them that i have remnants of a ghost of a feline still trapped in me, but i think that would spook the heck out of everybody.

otherwise, it does make an amusing story, doesn't it? : )