I once dated a lovely young lady who had a cat named “Boojumps.” One night while watching tv, her cat violently sneezed and blasted green snot into my mouth. Boojumps was her all she had left after she had lost her brother to the war during the Iraqi conflict. Boojumps was a gross, hot-mess of a cat, but I tolerated him because I felt bad for her loss of her brother and although he was a sad sack of a feline, he was still a life and I couldn’t make him silently disappear one night. I awoke the following morning after Boojumps expectoral explosion to find a major infection in my gums. Seems Boojumps mucus and my saliva made an incompatible combination resulting in a massive increase in microorganisms in my gumline. As my face had swelled to the size of Boojumps belly, I scooped him up and rushed off to the dentist to figure out what was next. As I drove there, I had to wonder if both of us would be returning home and if so, in what condition?
The prognosis arrived and it was definitely not what I wanted to hear.
“The unknown bacteria in Boojumps phlegm has triggered an immune response that left unchecked will kill you in the next 24 hours,” the doctor stated in a rather unempathetic and scientific tone.
The crackly paper on the examination bed suddenly felt like sandpaper on my swollen thighs as I considered my situation. The silence of the moment was unbearable as I sat in shock and the doctor looked curiously at the lab reports to see if there was anything she missed.
“AAAHH-CHOO!!!” the silence was broken as Boojumps once again blasted his green snot on the guests chair that he had been slowly defiling with his claws while he waited.
“Damn it! Can you do something about that cat?!? You wouldn’t be in this situation without that obese, bacteria pool of a monster you call a cat.” The doctor exclaimed as her mask of professionalism was shattered by Boojumps sneeze.
She was right, this was my weakness. Loving things that were not good for me even when they fail to love themselves. I wouldn’t even be here were it not for my love of Boojumps owner, HB. This cat was the only living memory she had of her brother who had died in the Iraqi conflict and the one who the night before had sneezed in my mouth which started the infection.
“The best potential solution to this problem will cure two problems. We need to isolate the source of the bacteria so we can get you the antibiotic needed to stop it and to do that we have to put your gross, hot-mess of a cat out of its misery.” The doctor then informed me
“You need to kill Boojumps?” I asked, with a crack in my voice as I realized the increasing severity of the situation.
“It’s the only way. We need its mucus membranes to extract the originating bacteria for testing in the lab.” she said, “and with the rate that your infection is spreading, we need to do it now.”
She put down her files and put her hand on my shoulder. “I will leave you and your cat for a few moments to say good-bye.” Her hand felt cold and I noticed a musty odor from her sleeve that had some very faint, scaly white stains on it.
The doctor then left the room. The slam of the door after she left sounded like I imagined my coffin cover would sound as they closed it before lowering me into my grave. Or was it the sound of Boojumps coffin? I had to decide and I had to decide now.
I looked at Boojumps who had returned to digging his claws into the green fabric of the scantily padded examination room chair. Because of my love for HB, this was actually a hard decision. She had already lost her brother to the war and now I was going to kill her only remaining memory of him because of my feline compromised immune system? How could I do that to her? She was a light to the world and Boojumps was the source of her strength. THere had to be another way.
I looked around the room for a sign on what to do. Time spent cuddling with Boojumps was wasted as I’d probably end up with a claw across my face or worse more green snot all over my clothes. I decided instead to look at the doctor’s pictures pinned on a corkboard near the examination room sink.
She had what looked to be a good life. Nice house, husband, kids. But as I looked at each photo I noted she had a surprising amount of dogs in every one. In fact, to say she was a dog lover was like saying Boojumps had a runny nose. It was clearly an understatement. Now I recollected what that smell and stain were. It was dog. This doctor clearly had a strong love of dogs which meant she had no compassion for their arch-enemies, cats!
“Boojumps, we gotta go!” I said as I walked back to where he was sitting.
In a way I have never seen before, he looked up at me with sad cat eyes and started purring.
“C’mon, you damn cat.” I said to him, “We’re in the wrong place”
I opened the door and started heading for the exit. As I approached a large security guard stepped in my way.
“The doctor said you have an incurable bacterial infection and you cannot leave the building. I’m sorry sir, but you will need to return to your examination room.”
People in the waiting room had gathered their things and moved to the other side after hearing the words, “incurable bacterial infection.” The atmosphere in the otherwise drab space had become intense.
I took a quick step to get around the guard and head for the door but he quickly moved and put his hand on my shoulder stopping me. But there it was again, the smell. Whether it was the bacterial infection slowly eroding my sense of reason or an actual fact, I concluded this office was run by dog lovers.
I then felt the guttural rumbling I felt from Boojumps belly the previous night as I leaned over the kiss HB. I knew what that meant. One of his sneezes was coming.
I held him up to the guards face and right on time, “AHHH-CHOO!!!” A massive blast of cat snot expectorated right at the guard.
He screamed like an infant and recoiled back, allowing Boojumps and I to make our break. I ran out the door, opened my car door and threw Boojumps across to the passenger seat. I started the car and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as I could. We were on our way to the cat veterinarian for a second opinion.
Whether I had just heroically saved my girlfriend’s cat from a feline hate group or signed my own death warrant remained to be seen, but for the moment, Boojumps and I were a heroic team working together to get back to the woman we both loved.