Rex the Cat

My girlfriend is dangerously close to her cats. I am all for pets, I do get that they are ‘companions’ but at times a love of ones cat can turn into obsession. You know it is going that way when she puts you on the phone to little Rexy. At this point I find it difficult to know what to say. There I am, in an important meeting, my girlfriend rings me to say that someone needs to speak to me and then I hear Rex. What do I say? What do I do? If I speak back I am a buffoon but if I don’t crazy cat lady will get annoyed. If I speak back in a stupid little cute voice then members of my team will destroy me. If I don’t crazy cat lady will get annoyed. I also get excited when I receive a picture from the girlfriend. Instantly I am thinking good things – she is in the ‘mood’. But instead of sending you dirty pictures she sends you a picture of Rex. This happens every single day. The only difference between the pictures is that Rex is ‘pulling a face’ or looking particularly cute that day. When Christmas arrives she dresses Rexy up in a Santa outfit and buys Rex a card and present. She speaks to Rex on a daily basis. Gets annoyed with Rex. Kisses Rex and sleeps with Rex. Rex is a hugely important part of her life. Rex is also the family cat – a cat that has grown up with the kids that the mum and dad adore.

One week ago disaster struck. Rex died. The way he died was amusing though – he got into the washing machine and had to withstand a quick spin dry, alas Rexy didn’t make it. Ok that is a little harsh. The family were distraught. Distraught. They’d murdered Rex. Actually, my girlfriend – who was washing her smalls – had murdered Rex. The family cat. Gone. And for what? Yes the stain came out of the knickers but was it really worth Rex’s life?

I woke up last week without a cat picture, without a phone call. I did however get an envelope come through the door. I walked over, cornflakes in hand, not literally – I don’t eat cornflakes one by one, they were in a bowl. “Stan” read the envelope. I opened it and I kid you not this is what confronted me:

“Stan, you are hereby cordially invited to the funeral of ‘Rex’. The service will take place at midday February 17. The mourners are asked to arrive at the Watsons family residence at 11.30. We will travel to the cemetery together”.

Cornflakes suddenly littered the floor like tiny Rabbit droppings litter a hutch. I could not take in what I had just received. Was this for real? I studied it more carefully – ‘the funeral of Rex’ – does this mean someone will speak and honour Rex’s life? ‘The service’ – is there going to music and a reading? ‘The mourners’ – hang on? Who the hell is going to this? It is a cat. A cat. “We will travel to the cemetery together” where will Rex be? Surely there is not going to be a car and an undertaker? I ring Emma up “Erm, hey Em.” She is crying “I was just wondering. The invitation that arrived this morning”…Emma interupts “Make sure you wear your best suit. It is what Rex would have wanted”. A cornflake gets lodged in my windpipe. Unable to breath I hang up. Who am I with? What is this family? What is going on?!

The 17th arrives. Emma is getting me changed and fastening my thin black tie (newly bought by her). We walk over to the Watsons residence. I am still stunned. Stunned. Outside the house is a black vehicle, long and thing – it is a hearse. There is then a heart shaped coffin with a floral arrangement that says ‘Rexy’. Two men are dressed up in top hat and tails. I look around at all the people – all 12 of them. I look at the two ‘undertakers’. I cannot understand why no one is laughing? What is going on? Is this actually happening? The mum, Val, is in floods of tears. Malcolm hugs her. One of the undertakers gets into the car. The other strides out in front of the car. We are to walk behind the car down to the pet cemetery. I am still open mouthed. Unable to comprehend what is happening. I am half expecting someone from the street to shout out ‘MURDERER” to my girlfriend such is the stupidityof the situation.

Everyone is acting like this is the most normal thing in the world. We make our way to “Heavenly Paws” cemetery. The sign reads “Because we know how much you care”. They are as stupid as the Watsons. A man appears and helps the undertakers take the casket. I look around and there are hundreds and hundreds of headstones “Barney. You were my world. I can’t believe you’ve gone. You weren’t just a fish you were a friend.”. “Jean Claude, you were my best friend in the world. Doggy heaven is lucky to have you”. I stand there speechless. Completely without speech. Picture the scene. I am surrounded by hundreds of headstones – all of them for pets, I am standing with 12 other people who are all wearing black, 2 undertakers, a chief mourner, a casket in the shape of a heart, a crying mother and all of this is happening because Rex couldn’t handle a spin dry.

You think I am joking don’t you? Heavenlypaws.co.uk – ironically their website currently says “Please note: We are at present unable to accept any deceased pets…” Surely that is a bit of a killer to the business. Maybe time to fire the MD Heavenly Paws?

Rex was laid to rest on February 17. He leaves behind a family of 5. Emma is currently on bail for manslaughter. Val was last seen buying rope. Me? I am currently walking back from the cemetery. Apparently I laughed during the service so I needed to apologise to Rex. Rex the dead cat.