I was watching a friend's home and pet cat while he and his wife were away on vacation.  The cat is pretty old as far as cat years are calculated so she needs some special care. 

     I went over for my daily feeding routine but thought it strange when she didn't come when I called.  I went to her bed and noticed that she didn't appear to be breathing.  I called her name again.  No response.  I slid my hand under her and lifted her up.  Limp as a dish rag.

     "Crap!" I thought.  "She died on my watch."

     I hated to spoil my friend's vacation with bad news but knew they would have specific burial plans so I gave him a call and explained the situation.  They were very sad but I tried to ease their pain somewhat by explaining that she died peacefully in her sleep and in her own bed.  But, that's when Fluffy raised her head, looked at me and said, "Meeeeoooooow!"

     People said they heard the scream for 30 miles.  Dogs in the next county were howling uncontrollably, the home guard went on alert and at least one spy satellite fell out of the sky.  I was goose-stepping like a nazi in a bed of red ants which, as you might guess, scared Fluffy.  She bowed her back, yowled and started ripping the room to pieces.

     I could hear my friend on the phone screaming, "What's the matter!? What's the matter!?"

     "Your demon-possessed cat just scared the crap out of me!  That's what's the matter!"

     "She's alive!?"

     "She's not alive.  She's back from the dead.  She's the devil!  And just so you'll know, I've been cleaning the litter boxes so the house wouldn't smell but that stink boat has sailed.  The wallpaper is peeling as we speak."

     "That's alright," he said.  "I'm just glad she's alive."

     "Don't get glad just yet," I said.  "Here Kitty, Kitty!"

     For more, go to my site, diggerdan.devil's-on-the-run.

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