Post #480 Barbeque for Cats

June 10, 2016 at 8:41 PM | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on Post #480 Barbeque for Cats

At work today, a couple of my colleagues were chuckling over an incident.  In a sharing mood, the one guy said, “Joe, you have to get her to tell you what happened!”  He was nearly doubled over with laughter.

I turned to her with my eyebrows raised.

“I was coming back from break,” she started and the other guy had to leave he was laughing so hard.

We both watched him go, then she continued, “There was a customer and he asked me where was our barbeque for cats.”

I shook my head, startled.  “What?  We don’t have anything like that.”  I quickly reviewed in my head all the various forms of cat food we had.

“I asked him what he said.  He kept saying barbeque for cats.”

I stared at her, watching the facial tics she was having trying to keep her mirth under control.

And suddenly, I was transported back a hundred years or so to the mid-80s.  My younger brother and I were working for the same company, although in different areas.  I was the computer geek, hired to get the company automated, while he was one of their yard managers, hired to keep the welding projects and supplies in order.  We had the same supervisor, a gentleman we both had known almost from the first year we’d moved to that town.

One day, around noon, I got a call from my brother.

“Hey, I’ve got to hurry home.  Someone told me my house is on fire!”

I was startled, but said, “Go for it.  I’ll find another ride home.”

I continued to work for a few moments, then realized.  HIS HOUSE WAS ON FIRE!!

I called our supervisor.  “Hey, my brother’s house is on fire and he’s racing home.  Can you take me out there?”

There was a moment of silence, then “Meet me at the truck.”

Our supervisor was a very earthy man.  He’d been married and divorced several times and liked to joke that he must be doing something right because all his ex-wives kept his last name.  His current wife was a cat lady.  She not only had several cats of her own, but fed every stray in the area.  Since they lived in the orange groves, stray cats were abundant.  He was constantly complaining about the number of cats and kittens that were underfoot.

We’d joked about creative solutions in reducing the population from bait to house warming gifts.  So on the drive out to my brother’s house, we joked about it.

“Hey, should we stop at my house,” he asked.  “We could get a couple of dozen cats and throw them in.”

“What would you call that?” I replied.

“I don’t know.  Just don’t tell my wife.”

“Kitten on a biscuit?”

He nearly drove off the road laughing so hard.  “Smoked kitty?” he responded.

“Charbroiled cat?” was my response.

It got worse, but it was a way to deal with what we were driving to.  My brother’s house was completely destroyed.  But there was silver lining and he was able to rebuild and all was well in the long run.

And I stood in the store hearing “barbeque for cats” and thinking “kitten on a biscuit.”

We live in a very rural area, which was only connected to the mainland at recently as the 1970s.  Barbeque for cats could be something as real as possum stew or catfish gravy.  Remind me to tell you about scrapple some day.

I couldn’t tell if I should be amused or bewildered.  I was put out of my misery.

“He meant barbeque brisket.”

“What?!”  I couldn’t help it; I broke out laughing.

“How in heck did you get brisket out of that?”

She laughed with me.  “I don’t know!  I kept wondering if he wanted a cat that was barbequed, or barbequed something for his cat.  But he kept pointing at the meat case.  Somehow, I figured it out.”

We both laughed good and hard over that.  Somehow barbequed brisket morphed into barbeque for cats, and I remembered the big fire, and the day went all out of whack from there.

I love living in a small town.  I really do.



Blog at
Entries and comments feeds.