I have Seen my Destiny

I Have Seen my Destiny

Imagine being able to know your destiny when you die. No more guesswork about where your spirit will end up, no fervent prayers asking for forgiveness for all the wrongs you done or your evil deeds in this life. Suddenly you know, you KNOW clear as a bell just what will happen to your spirit when your body gives out. An' you know you ain't goin' to heaven OR hell neither. No, you're goin to a place called Purgatory. Well that's not really a place, it's a state of bein', a place o' torture, as it were (accordin' to the dictionary).

I didn't even have a concept o' what that meant 'til this mornin' durin' our usual conversation over breakfast coffee. We usually talk about the weather or dyin' or that kinda stuff, but this mornin' it was about cats, of all things. My position on cats is well known. I dunno why the Missus keeps bringin' it up all the time but she does. Every time she sees a cat at somebody's house, she wants one. Well so far, I been winnin' the argument.

I threatened to throw all my clothes all over the floor, the furniture and the plants. The wife was confused. What the H E double hockey sticks did I think I'd accomplish with that, she wanted to know. I'd be the same as a cat, I said. They shed their fur all over everythin' an' don't ever pick it up.

“Well,” she comes back rather smartly, “what do you think the vaacum is for?”

“An' who does the vaacumin' around here?” I come back just as smart. I got her there. She ain't got no argument against that (even though I can see she'd like to).

“Okay, you win,” she concedes reluctantly, “but when you die, I'm gettin' a cat an' callin' it Victor!”

“What the - - - you wouldn't!”

“What'll you do about it, bein' dead an' all?” she quips.

I have no idea how I came to losin' this argument but it seems there's no way out. Now I gotta think of how to reply. I always teased my cat lovin' grandchildren that if I ever got a cat, it would be a cat named Bob, or alternately that I didn't want a cat – I wasn't hungry. None o' that would work in this case though.

“So you're sayin' that after you're done with me you're goin' to be married to some wussy pussy.”

“Don't be so silly. I'll name the cat Victor an' it'll be your spirit in the cat. It'll be just like you never left. You'll be rumblin' around here quietly all day like you do now an' you'll be all soft an' cuddly at night on the pillow. Sounds great to me.”

Yep. That's Purgatory alright. Victor the cat! Well at least now I know my destiny. Listen, it can't be all that bad. At least I know the layout, an' the place'll be nice an' clean an' I won't have to vaacum neither. If I gotta suffer this kind o' torture, it won't be that much torture I figure. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Jusr sayin'.