My poor cat is getting really old. He was quite the brawler in his younger days, and has had more than just a few anatomical parts torn off and surgically re-attached.

We’ll just not mention those anatomical parts which were deliberately and surgically gashed off, before they were ever even noticed and used. . . .

He has also lost most of his teeth, which, of course, remain gone. Most of those teeth were probably swallowed whole by marauding bully-cats, along with great fluffs of greyish swirly hair.

Hairballs harfed out by these cats must have been incredible things. Weapons of the most unexpected and therefore brilliant calibre. Grey swirly hairballs, each with a tooth in its center. Not unlike a snowball with a hidden rock in the middle. Or maybe a Tootsie Roll Pop that’s been in the glove compartment of the car through too many weather changes. However you describe it, one thing is clear: The Weapons of Mass Destruction have been discovered.

The most frequent target of the local woodland mafia of hungry-yet -lazy racoons and possums seemed to be his tail. A cat’s tail must be made of strong stuff, because this tail has been revived after hanging by a thread. A THREAD, mind you. Brought back to life after being dragged a foot behind his body by a THREAD. And even now, that tail could knock over an anvil. Imagine what that tail could do if it had not been for the many reconstructive surgeries.

Poor cat. His nine lives were used up long ago. He’s living on time borrowed from those selfsame woodland bullies, now.

What brought on this ramble, you might be wondering. Well, I had intended to post about something else, and then the Cat put his face in my face and grinned like a Cheshire Cat. The sight of that huge wide grin, with all those missing teeth, reminded me that I really ought to carve some pumpkins before Saturday night. Big wide faces with big wide grins, and lots of missing teeth.

You know, so the Cat will have a little something for his midnight snack tonight.