As you may know, I have considerable evidence to prove that my house is one of the points in the universe on which many dimensions converge. (The giant heap of mismatched socks, weird crap that appears in my house, up to and including a peach satin formal and a size 0 cheongsam,etc.) I may have found an explanation for all of the roach carcasses in my house. I sweep up at least three every day, every day there are more. I don’t know what keeps happening, but every day there is a fresh batch of corpses.
Because I will do absolutely anything to avoid studying for this infernal test, I still have several minutes before I have to take it, I was formulating a theory based on something I saw last night. I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water and I saw a cockroach lurking in the kitchen. I turned around and yelled at it to get out. My calico meatloaf of a cat, Samantha, peeked her head around the corner and gave the roach a stern look (I’m assuming the look was for the roach and not me.)
This morning there was another three roach bodies.
My theory is that whenever a roach appears, my cat slips on her ninja pajamas and sneaks up on them to subdue them and snap their necks in a quick, painless death.
Now before you shake your head and murmur that surely I have lost it, no cat has that kind of power, let me drop this knowledge on you.
Station Master Tama, the calico cat who saved the Wakayama Electric Railway company by looking just so adorable in her little station master hat, has died. She was 16, which is a good run for a cat.
Tama was born in the small town of Kinokawa in the Japanese prefecture of Wakayama, one of a litter of stray cats that hung out near the Kishi Station on the Wakayama line. Tama and her siblings lived off of scraps donated by compassionate commuters until 2006, when budget cuts at the railway forced Kishi Station to lay off its human employees. Local businessman Toshiko Koyama, who had adopted Tama several years before, was elected volunteer station master and began bringing the cat with him on his duties. Tama was so popular that she was officially named Station Master of Kishi Station in 2007, a position that consisted mainly of just sitting there and looking cute as passengers passed by on their way to work. She was paid in cat food.
That’s not unusual for Japan, where cute mascots are used to sell everything. (Seriously, everything.) The thing about Station Master Tama is that people went out of their way to go see her. A lot of people, actually—according to the BBC, tourism related to Station Master Tama has brought in an estimated 1.1 billion yen (around $9 million) to the local economy, single-handedly solving the railway’s financial problems. This resulted in her promotion, first to Super Station Master, then to Operating Officer of Wakayama Electric, making her not only the first cat, but also the only female to serve in a management position at the railway company.
Now, in death, Tama has been promoted once more, receiving the title of “Honorable Eternal Stationmaster” at a Shinto funeral held at the station over the weekend. That same ceremony, which was attended by an estimated 3,000 people, also enshrined Tama as a goddess, in keeping with traditional reverence for animal deities. Wakayama Electric president Mitsunobu Kojima expressed his gratitude to Tama for helping save the company, saying, “[S]he really was doing her job. [Tama] really emerged like a savior, a goddess. It was truly an honor to have been able to work with her.” Tama’s apprentice, another calico cat named Nitama, has taken over as the new feline Station Master.”
So if a cat can become a goddess in this day and age, what’s to say that my Samantha, she the ruler of all she surveys and chief yanker of my own personal chain, (E.L. James’ worst idea ever) could not be the source of all of kicked roaches behinds in my house?