Good deeds don’t always work

Good deeds don’t always work

Then the cat freaked. I don’t know why. 

            One Appalachian winter dusk, a neighbor’s  cat appeared at my door. The neighbor’s house was about a half mile away through the woods and I assumed the cat’s arrival was by way of a neighborly visit.

            I put the cat in front of my fireplace and stroked and petted it for a while. The cat even purred, which was a more vibratory sound than I’d imagined, almost a contented growl. I’ve never been good with animals and this was, I sensed, a triumph for each of us. Paws across the species gap. I confess that I cared for this cat. Too much, as it turned out.

            By eight o’clock I figured it was time for the cat to go home where I knew a bowl of that vile gruel felines eat had been lovingly prepared. Trouble was it was bitterly cold; too cold to put any living thing out into the woods and the cat didn’t seem to want to go.

            So I decided to give the cat a lift home. I put it in the car, turned on the heat for the cat’s comfort and headed out slowly along an icy road. And it was okay for the first few yards. Then the cat freaked. I don’t know why; maybe it had never been in a car. Anyway, it started wailing and jumping and scratching. It got on my head, which is hell anytime but especially when you’re trying to keep a car on an icy road.

            “Calm down, dammit,” I reasoned. The cat leapt into the back seat then back into the front. I guess I was supposed to seat belt her or something. Anyway, I got her home and let her out, whereupon she ran not into the warm house but into those very woods where I couldn’t bring myself to release her.

            Moral: If, in the course of a good deed, the recipient of said deed starts to scratch and jump, desist the deed, which wasn’t as good as you originally thought.