The Amazing Knitting Cat

By Glenn A. Hascall


Get the real story on what happened after the kittens lost their mittens and the ensuing difficulties that began when one kitten decided to remove his mittens for a game of tetherball. A monologue from one of the family members who owned the amazing knitting cat.




LAWRENCE: Hello, my name is Lawrence - well most people call me Larry - or Lars - although I'm not sure why they do that. I've kept a secret for far too long and I'm here to set the record straight. You see I was there when it all happened. It was horrible - and  to think, if the truth had been told at the beginning things would be different for me now.
It all started several years ago when our cat, Gertrude, discovered that she could knit. Oh, the wonderful stockings she made for my sister, Jane. Mom and Dad enjoyed scarves made by Gertrude. I received a pot holder - I'm still trying to work through that one. My brother Phil never received anything from Gertrude. Perhaps it was the way he was prone to practical jokes, or maybe it was an honest mistake, but everyone seemed to be focused on the amazing knitting cat and not on 'knitless Phil'. There was even the opportunity to have Gertie - that's what we called her - go on national television and show off her unusual skill. (Thoughtful) We never really did refer to what she did as a stupid pet trick. I mean, what she did was amazing - in a parallel universe kind of way.
That's when we discovered the Gertie had been putting on a little weight - OK a lot of weight. She was getting huge. We thought she might be spending too much time knitting so we took her to a Feline diet club and had her walking the tread mill and lifting weights until she confided to my mother that she was - in the family way. She was with kitten as we liked to call it.
Well, the next thing you know Gertie was making several of the smallest mittens I have ever seen in my life. If it weren't for the thumb pieces I would have believed they were hats for the destitute mice that showed up at our door looking for a handout only to have the bajebers scared out of them at the sight of Gertie the sumo cat.  But no - they were mittens for her new offspring. Gertie actually made just three sets of mittens which presented a problem after the birth of Louie, John John, Betsy, Erma, Candice and Venus Flytrap - strange character that Venus Flytrap.
Those little kits - we liked to call them kits - just loved those mittens, they wouldn't leave them behind - Gertie wouldn't let them. They were born in the late spring and yet they still wore those mittens when they went out to play tennis, shuffleboard or pinball - Gertie insisted on it.
One day John John was playing tetherball with Erma when he decided that his hands were getting kinda sweaty - so he took the mittens off. Wouldn't you know it, the game ended and Erma convinced John John that one day He'd get the hang of it. One by one those mitten wearing kits shed those homemade gloves like a snake with bad skin. They discovered that they could walk a whole different way. They had every intention of bringing the mittens home, but in the end everyone thought someone else was bringing them.
That's what they thought.
What they didn't understand and what Gertrude didn't know for years was that my brother Phil had decided to steal the mittens and place them in his sock drawer. It seemed he wanted to see what sort of trouble the kittens would get into - and what trouble he could stay out of.
Sure enough, Gertie referred to her offspring as "naughty kittens" who willingly and with great zeal lost their mittens - possibly with great purpose and intent. They were told they could forget about having any homemade pie. Some of the more sensitive ones wept openly while others just couldn't figure what the problems was. I mean, it wasn't like they had lost their milk money or anything really bad. Just mittens that really were out of season and would be too small by winter. Not a big loss, right - WRONG!
Gertie howled and screamed until the police arrived and took her report. She described the mittens down to the last detail - color, general size, total number of stitches - or are they called knits? Oh, one thing I should mention is that if you've ever seen a kitten walk with their feet covered it's sort of like watching a Jerry Lewis movie - ANY Jerry Lewis movie. (Demonstrate the following if you like) Their little legs are bouncing up in the air as if they had stepped on a hot tin roof.
Maybe Phil thought he was doing those little kit's a favor, but when law enforcement got involved, Phil worked overtime to cover up the sins of his most recent past. When I saw him take the mittens out of the sock drawer in an effort to move the evidence to a more secure location.
I confronted him. That's why I have been in the witness protection program.
But today, after all these years I want to set the record straight. The kittens had absolutely nothing to do with the loss of their mittens and Phil has apologized to both Gertie, her husband Club Foot - don't ask - and my parents.
The kits are full grown and have actually - although confidentially - thanked Phil for swiping the mittens. They seem to feel that his childhood act of kleptomania may have saved them from years of foot reflex psychological therapy. Although Phil did spend the better part of Tuesday in time out - which was kind of odd for a man his age.
So I guess all's well that ends well. All - that is - except Gertrude who has given up the knitting and now spends hours on end with our family's television remote looking for that elusive network geared to the specific needs of the modern feline eating bon bons. She also continued to receive royalty checks for a story that was written about her mitten making experiences of yesteryear. She no longer needed to knit - but she still refused to pay rent.
I've thought an awful lot about this - and I've concluded that this whole mess could have been avoided if 6 not-so-naughty kittens would have just told their mother the truth - wearing mittens is a stupid thing for kittens to do. I mean you never saw Gertrude wearing mittens - their friends never had to wear mittens. And if Club Foot hadn't been wearing mittens he might still be called Roy and I wouldn't have had to switch addresses every few months if my brother Phil would have just fessed up to his part in this little escapade. The cops thought for a long time that a hit cat might try to find me, thinking that I might have seen the mitten heist. I still keep my eyes pealed for tough looking tom cats and I'm not sure how Phil convinced me of that fairy tale.
Maybe it's all for the best, I can finally see my parents again and I've met a nice girl and we're getting married next year. (Happy) And the good news is she's allergic to cats. (Sad) The bad news - now I'm in therapy.
Copyright 2004 by Glenn A. Hascall
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