Our friends have a terrific place but they have wild chickens and, of course, roosters.
They just woke me up.
They crow TOO loudly.
We are at the 1,200 foot level with an ocean view, so we are blessed with cool nights and pleasant trade winds.
We like that.
And so do the wild pigs, some over 350 pounds.
They bang around and grunt during the night, attempting to murder the roosters. Thank heavens we have inside plumbing.
The boars have 10-inch tusks that are curved and pointed.
How’d you like to deal with such a problem on the way to an outdoor privy under a tropical moon here in paradise?
That was in the old days. Now of course Kona is modern.
This home is super, the former residence of the governor of Alaska, and has thick oak doors. Those doors keep everything out except the geckos…
The reason we are here is that our friends took their 18 year old cat, Lawsa, back to the mainland for some kind of high-tech surgery and medical procedure — they spend more on that geriatric feline then some people do on their kids.
Our friends needed someone to look after their place and asked us to come over. Since Kate has flying passes it may turn out to be an inexpensive adventure.
On the other hand, things are pricey, especially eating out.
We shop at Costco and make food in our friend’s dream kitchen.
Or at least Kate does.
Late last night the vets in LA revealed their heroic medical procedures might kill Lawsa by month’s end.
Our friends were devastated, having flown to Honolulu, then to LA with this cat.
Plus taking at least a week off from their business.
The procedure was put on hold.
Faxes and emails flew back and forth across the Pacific among a group of special small pet vets that would astonish you. Critical x-rays were sent by courier.
For the last week, monitors have been attached to Lawsa.
Lawsa can’t eat well so its owners must pre-chew his food.
I understand that they had many strange looks from fellow passengers on the five hour flight.
Lawsa has something wrong with its thyroid so the LA vets were going to feed it isotopic juice.
No one could have gone near the poor thing because it would have been radioactive for about a week.
Or you have to dress up in some kind of Haz-suit to be in the same room with the creature.
Which our friends had planned to do because they feel Lawsa desperately needs human contact during this crisis.
I guess the cat was going to get so much radioactive juice that its yellow eyes would have glowed in the dark like headlights on a little Lexus — that certainly would give the mice a nasty start. Especially at night.
Now more bad news has been reported to us.
Apparently such a creature’s poop can kill its owner. Lawsa’s litter would have to have been stored as toxic waste.
You read that correctly. The cat’s poop is deadly.
Changing his litter box would have been life-threatening.
You need a federal license to deal with toxic poop.
I figure it would make one heck of a dirty bomb.
So I can see why the authorities are on the alert.
In human years, Lawsa is about 85 and understandably irritable.
I feel sorry for him.
Still, I do not trust Lawsa because he hissed and took a couple of swipes at me. (I admit I hissed back, more of a reflex than anything.)
Thank God Lawsa was declawed and had no serviceable teeth left.
And thank God Lawsa was not radioactive.
I am sure in retaliation for hissing back, Lawsa would have pooped on me as I slept.
There is a pretty good chance that this cat won’t see August and should it die on the mainland but our friends will bring the remains back for a funeral.
Probably in a lead box if the doctors and human parents opt for the radioactive juice.
I don’t even want to think about how our friends are going to get Lawsa through airport security.
“What do you clowns have in this lead box? We can’t x-ray it.”
“Our child, Little Lawsa. He passed.”
“It’s a pretty small kid if you ask me but we’re going to have to open this thing up.”
“You better not.”
“Never threaten a Homeland Security Officer. That’s a federal crime…Sergeant Fife, slip your pry bar under that lid and snap that box open.”
And so on…
After the creature’s inevitable passing, a Kona service is planned with three Hawaiian Kahunas being invited.
A tentative list of cat friends (and their parents) is being vetted.
Certain boisterous cats have been deleted from the mourners’ list.
I will be asked to help with the eulogy.
It is a great responsibility and I am nervous.
BREAKING NEWS: The human parents of the Kat of Kona, in a sudden reversal of plans, gave the OK for the vets to give Lawsa the radiation juice.
Producer’s Pledge:
It is my opinion that the Kona Kat tricked his human parents into radiating him.
This will give him incredible super powers.
I think he wants to rule this world. I am sure he faked his illness. We will document everything, albeit low budget.
To read more about The Kona Kat please click here.
What we have discovered could result in the end of the human race and a shortage of avocados.
